The Journey Home
by JustAnotherSlytherinFangirl
Summary: When Arthur is 13 he is kidnapped by mercenaries along with a sorcerer called Merlin. The two unlikely friends have to work together to escape and find their way home, encountering knights, magic, friends and foes on the way.
1. Kidnapped

It was a rainy day in the village of Ealdor. On the edge of this village sat a rather unassuming little hut. It had straw for a roof, and only one room; anyone passing by wouldn't give it a second thought. Even the other villagers didn't think much of the residents there. Well nothing good anyway. A young woman, unmarried - 'without virtue' the villagers said - by the name of Hunith lived there with her son Merlin - 'bastard' the villagers said.

Because of the rain, Merlin with his big ears and goofy smile, had been allowed this once to dry the clothes magically, which meant that he finished his chores before breakfast even started. So early on the wonderful (rainy) and happy (thunder was crashing overhead) day, Merlin left his straw-roofed hut (immediately drenched) and whistled as he made his way towards the forest (lightning struck a tree) and decided that yes, today was a wonderful day.

He made his way far from the village, knowing that he had to make sure no one would accidentally stumble across him. Unlikely, as who would be out in the woods on such stormy (beautiful) day. With his whole day free, Merlin knew this was his chance use his magic freely.

He sat on a log deep in the woods, and with a smile on his face looked towards a stick on the soaked earth. With a flash of golden eyes the stick flared like a match, the fire leaping from its source, the sparks forming a figure in the air. It was a horse, rearing upwards. He thought horses were so majestic, there weren't any in Ealdor but when Cenred's men came, and sometimes the traders who passed through too, they came on horseback. It was a ridiculous dream, after all only rich people owned their own horses, but Merlin was going to have one of his own when he was older. Unfortunately while Merlin stared at his dream horse, envisioning his future, he didn't notice the men who were approaching.

"Awful nice horse you have there laddy." Came a scratching voice.

Merlin jumped to his feet, the horse dissipating into smoke and steam as he stared wide-eyed at the newcomer.

"I wasn't- it wasn't a- I'm not a-" Merlin stammered out, unable to form a sentence.

"Not magic?" Came a deeper voice behind him, making Merlin turn around to see three more men approach from behind him.

"Sure looked like magic to me," said the one in the middle.

"Awful young to be learning magic." A grey-haired man spoke from Merlin's left. Easily the oldest of the group so far, he made four.

Merlin realised he'd been surrounded. Turning in a circle, he realised two more men had joined them. Now surrounded by six men, who had all seen his magic, Merlin had never been more scared in his life. He felt like his heart had come to a rest in his throat, and his stomach had dropped all the way to his knees. He could barely breathe, he could barely think. _Never, never let anyone see your gift, Merlin. It must stay a secret._ His mother's words came unbeckoned into his mind. She'd always insisted that he keep himself hidden, he knew why of course. If someone loyal to Cenred found out, he'd be handed over as a slave to be trained as a weapon. Or if anyone from Camelot came over the border he'd dragged before their King to be burnt at the pyre. Unless he was taken by bandits or mercenaries and then who knew what would happen to him. He wasn't sure which scenario was worse.

The six men all stepped closer until the grey-haired one was stood right in front of Merlin close enough to touch.

"Are you deaf boy?" He snarled right into Merlin's face, and he realised that the men had still been speaking to him and he hadn't even noticed. He shook his head quickly.

"Then answer the question, how old are you?"

"11," He breathed in barely more than a whisper, before repeating just loud enough to be audible, "11."

"11, eh? Well, grab him." He ordered to his men.

One hand grabbed Merlin's arm while another landed rough on his shoulder. Merlin suddenly screamed and all six men were thrown backwards through the air crashing into trees and getting tangled in bushes. He saw one hit his head quite hard on a rock, but he had no time to wonder if he was still alive because Merlin started running. He ran faster than he'd ever run before. But he heard shouts behind him and could hear footfalls in pursuit. And worse, the sounds were getting closer. Merlin had always been clumsy, Will always said that he'd trip over thin air. Rocks and twigs were no different. Merlin stumbled too much to maintain his speed and at one point fell face first onto the forest floor. He scrambled to his feet and tried to keep going, but his feet had betrayed him and the men had caught up.

He didn't go down without a fight. He tried to punch and kick, although he'd never been very talented physically and these men didn't seem deterred by his physical attacks. Magically however, he threw off him whoever dared get close, and levitated twigs, rocks, leaves whatever off the forest floor and practically created a tornado around him in instinctive panic. The objects didn't do much more than cut and sting but the dust made it near impossible to breathe, and the constant onslaught meant that they couldn't focus. There was however strength in numbers, and Merlin couldn't look everywhere at once. One of the men snuck up behind the boy, and holding a knife to his throat ordered him to stop. Merlin knew he didn't have the precision to throw this man off, he'd probably cut his own throat open trying to. He stopped his magic, his eyes turning back to blue, and held up his hands in surrender.

The grey-haired man stabbed his sword into the ground and approached Merlin.

"Strong one he is. Could be worth something." One of his men said, in a deep baritone voice.

"Restrain him. Oh and make sure he can't use his magic."

Apparently his men interpreted that as knock him out, because the next thing Merlin knew there was a sharp pain in the back of his head and everything went black.

When Merlin came back to consciousness, he moved a hand round to his head, he groaned in pain and was startled to feel dried blood with his fingers. That probably wasn't good. He didn't have much time to linger on it though, as he found himself locked in a cage. Outside of the bars a ruckus had started at the edge of camp.

Two men got up from the fire, as their companions stepped out of the woods, cargo in tow. This particular cargo was yelling and thrashing about despite hands being tied behind his back and being dragged by two of the largest men in the group. Merlin also saw that this boy, for surely he was a boy he looked barely older than Merlin himself, was favouring his left leg, a leg that also happened to have a lot of blood dripping down it.

The grey-haired man merely chuckled at the youth's fruitless attempts. "May I introduce Prince Arthur of Camelot." He annouced in the snottiest voice making a deep bow of it. The other men laughed as if he'd just said the funniest thing in the world, but Merlin could barely hear it. _Prince of Camelot _repeated in his head. He scrambled away from the bars, knowing this did not bode well.

"Put him with the sorcerer." He heard. He didn't comprehend. The door to his cage was opened and the blond haired youth chucked unceremoniously in.

Merlin's breath quickened and he inched his way into the corner farthest from his new prisonmate. The prince stared at him too, obviously afraid but trying to hide it.

"You two are going to make me rich." A man said.

_You must keep it a secret. _She'd said. But of all the nightmare scenario's Merlin had imagined, he knew this was the worst. He didn't know what would happen to him. The men were obviously slavers and there was a Pendragon not a foot away from him. All three rolled into one. This was by far the worst day of Merlin's life.

XxX

It was the best day of Arthur's life. It was the first time he'd left Camelot without his father. He was 13 by now, nearly 14 even, practically grown he'd decided. And now he was out in the woods, with his own troupe of knights (alright technically they were his fathers but for today they were under his command) making their way through the forest of Essetir. So what if it was raining, and his cloak was soaked, and mud was splashing up from the horses hooves onto his new boots. It was still the best day ever as far as Arthur was concerned.

At least until the bandits attacked. They had been going through a valley, when suddenly arrows had come flying from all sides, knights fell, knocked off their horses all around him.

"Sire, Go!" One of the knights called back at Arthur. Sir Leon, that was it. He was new, he'd only been knighted last month. But Arthur didn't hesitate, he turned the horse around and sped away. Or at least, he tried to. However, he didn't make it far before his horse reared back in fright, throwing Arthur to the ground.

He grasped for his sword at his hip, and scrambled to his feet as he pulled it from its scabbard. He was a skilled swordsman, not the best yet, but he trained everyday and the knights always said he was coming along so well. He was sure he was more than a match for the two- three bandits who appeared from the trees around him. When one got too close he swung at him with his sword. However he heard a squelch of mud behind him and chancing a glance saw another figure come out from the trees, sword in his hand too.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Camelot red, and so young too. A knight perhaps?"

"I am Prince Arthur of Camelot and you will let me go!" He commanded in the strongest voice he could muster. He usually got his way, however merely asking wasn't going to cut it this time. He saw the man's eyes brighten as he took another step.

With every step forward Arthur stepped back, but aware of the bandits behind him he turned in a circle, sword pointed at anyone who dared come close.

"A Prince , eh? My day just keeps getting better. Grab him." At the order all three men came forward at once, and Arthur fell right into his training. Parrying and blocking, a feint to the right, eyes darting around alert, always remember your footwork. But he was one boy, and the men outnumbered and surrounded him. It wasn't long before one struck his sword right through Arthur's leg, just above the knee. The prince fell painfully to the ground. The bandits wasted no time in taking his sword while he was distracted; Another grabbing his arms quickly tying them behind his back. Arthur was in a haze of pain. He'd never been stabbed before. God it hurt. But he noticed when his arms were wrenched behind his back, and he was dragged to his feet. He tried to fight, but even he knew there was no point. There was no chance he was giving up though. Noticing nothing but the pain and his need to escape, he barely could tell that the men were dragging him through the woods. Nor that they'd come to a campfire. He vaguely made out the men laughing about something, as blood thrummed in his ears. He could barely believe there was still enough to do that, how much blood had he lost by now?

_Sorcerer._Arthur's head snapped up. He'd heard it, the word _sorcerer_. It made its way into his brain with all the grace of spooked horse. _Put him with the sorcerer._ The man had said. A _sorcerer. _There was a sorcerer here?

He felt himself being dragged once more and then tossed onto hard wood, before he heard the slam of a door and click of a lock. He looked up and saw across from him, a black-haired boy with the biggest ears he'd ever seen and the widest eyes full of fear. _Put him with the sorcerer._ Sorcerer. This boy was a sorcerer.

_Never forget Arthur. Sorcerers are evil creatures. Magic itself corrupts the hearts of all who use it. Pray you never meet a sorcerer, for he will surely try and kill you._And now he was locked in a cage with one. And wounded. And also captured by bandits with who knew what intentions. Trying to breathe as deeply and evenly as he could, Arthur tried to keep calm. He wouldn't let fear control him. He had to keep his head. No situation was hopeless for one brave and clever enough. He was to be King one day, he had to prove to himself that he was worthy of that. No King would let this situation get the better of them. No, he would get out of this. This would not be the worst day of his life.


	2. Hunger and Thirst

The Prince was passed out. Merlin wasn't sure if he should still be afraid of him. He was until he saw the amount of red pooled at his left leg. It was clear that he too had fought against his capture and been injured by it. And he'd passed out... Did that mean the injury was bad? Merlin had no idea. It could've been the pain he supposed, but he also looked like he'd lost a lot of blood, and blood loss might be able to do that too Merlin figured. Either way, it probably wasn't healthy.

And why was even worrying about this. He'd been captured by slavers who knew he had magic and said they were going to sell both of them. They'd probably save themselves the trip and just sell them both to the King of Camelot and then Merlin really was screwed. No he definitely shouldn't be worried about the Prince of _Camelot _of all places, just because he was bleeding.

_But he was bleeding a lot__, _his mind told him, _And couldn't be much older than me. __He really doesn't look so scary asleep._

He thought he might at least be able to help. And the Prince was asleep so he wouldn't even know. Merlin held out a hand and laid it gently on the Prince's knee, jumping when the Prince groaned. But he steadied his hand and then focused inwards on his magic. Trying to direct it to the injury.

But as he searched within himself, he found nothing. The warm joyful place where his magic usually lay was empty.

He fell back with shock, breath starting to rush from panic. Merlin whimpered at the realisation that he couldn't use magic. He always had magic to rely on, he felt vulnerable with it being so suddenly stripped away from him.

Merlin had never been more terrified in his life, but the Prince aas still bleedinbleeding. He gathered his courage to speak up. "He needs a bandage. His leg... It's bleeding."

"A sorcerer," One slaver sneered from his place by the fire; Merlin flinched. "Caring for the Prince of Camelot. That's a sight!"

Merlin shied away from the Prince. The man was right, he really shouldn't care, but damn he did.

"You can't ransom him if he dies." Why was he even still talking, really he had to get a grip on his tongue.

The man looked ready to ridicule Merlin again, but shut his mouth when the eldest- clearly the leader- interrupted him. "Get some cloth for the Prince's leg, Jack."

The slaver got up and left the fire towards where the horses were saddled ahead of the cage, he pulled some bandages from a bag and tossed them through the bars.

"There you go, entertain yourself." He snapped before walking away.

Merlin picked up the bandage and with shaky hands he turned back to the Prince. Only to be looking into a blue and very much open set of eyes. Merlin went completely still for a moment, but then looked down again at the blood on the cage's floor and made to shuffle forward.

The Prince scraped back his face contorted in pain but still managing to glare as best he could. "Stay away from me, _sorcerer__._" He spat.

Merlin flinched. It felt wrong for people to know. It felt wrong for people to throw it in Merlin's face as if the very word tasted vile.

Merlin decided to simply hold out the bandages instead of applying them himself. The Prince stared at him for a while before he eventually leant forward warily and snatched them out of his hand. Crawling back into their respective corners, Merlin tried not to watch as the Prince bandaged his own leg.

But there wasn't a lot else to focus on. He didn't want to look at the slavers and asides from that there was just a lot of bars and trees. In the tense silence Merlin finally took note of just how much he was shaking. He was afraid yes, but they were so far from the fire and even though the rain had stopped, Merlin was soaked. He pulled his jacket tighter around him as he shivered.

As night set in it only got colder. Eventually he lay down, curling into a ball, and exhausted, fell asleep.

XxX

The sorcerer was sleeping but that didn't make Arthur any less uneasy. What trick had he been trying to pull before? Trying to bandage his leg. Was he trying to gain Arthur's trust? That was never going to happen, of that Arthur was certain.

Was he even really sleeping or was that a trick too? Trying to get Arthur to let his guard down. Well he wasn't going to do that either. Sleeping or not he was a sorcerer. Arthur was horrified that he'd passed out in front of him, left himself to the mercy of a sorcerer. His father would be furious for sure. But damn it, his leg had hurt. It still hurt for that matter. The burning sensation of pain seeming to strengthen rather than lessen.

Arthur wasn't even sure at this point who he was more afraid of. The bandits who'd kidnapped him or the sorcerer he was trapped with.

Arthur shook his head. This wasn't productive. The important thing to focus on was escape. He needed some way to get out of the cage, and also probably a distraction. But the flare of pain when he shifted reminded him: He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe he could wait, bide his time. See who these bandits were going to sell him too, and make a plan when he had more information.

Waiting was going to be hell though. He was already tense and the sorcerer wasn't even awake; as far as he knew at least. How was he going to bide his time long enough to be able to make a run for it?

He leaned back against the bars, and tried to tell his heartbeat that it could slow down. He had a long night ahead after all.

XxX

The next morning, Merlin didn't feel any better even for the rest. He was still freezing and his head ached from where he'd been hit. Hunger and pain twisting his stomach and making him nauseous.

The slavers threw two pieces of bread and a skin of water into the cage as they packed up camp. The Prince snatched at the skin before Merlin could reach it and greedily slaked his thirst. When he lowered it Merlin held out his hand, but the Prince just glared, tightening his grip on the waterskin. Merlin let his arm fall back.

He reached for one of the pieces of bread and nibbled on it, hoping not to upset his stomach any further but desperately hungry at this point.

He though of breakfast at home, his mother made bread much better than this. His _mother_, it hurt to think. She was probably panicking over where he'd disappeared to. She always worried about him, always feared where he'd end up. He didn't like to have proven her fears true. He didn't like to think of her panic at all actually, so he clamped his eyes shut and gave his head a little shake.

He continued to nibble on his bread after the slavers had all saddled up and began moving. The rocking of the cage and the constant jerking when they hit a rock did nothing to help his stomach and he eventually had to concede defeat on eating anything at all.

The Prince didn't appear to have had any such problems, his piece of bread already long gone and the Prince himself staring determinedly at the forest outside.

Merlin threw the bread at the Prince's feet; no point in wasting food after all.

The Prince startled and look down before glaring at him and turning back to staring out the bars.

"It's not catching you know."

The Prince turned around again to stare at him.

"Magic. It hasn't infected the bread. You can eat it." He told him bitingly.

The Prince just stared at him longer, looking between him and the bread. He evidently gave in to the hunger as he ate it anyway. No doubt not used to hunger pains.

He then turned back to staring out of the bars and ignoring Merlin. Merlin didn't mind so much and decided to follow his example.

The sun rose higher in the sky and Merlin starting wetting his lips every other moment, completely parched. He kept looking longingly at the waterskin, but not once did the Prince so much as seem to notice his plight. He thought perhaps just a bit of water would help with this unending nausea.

As the night fell the slavers finally stopped and set up camp again. Merlin was glad for the rest and the cessation of being jerked around.

A bandit came towards the cage and took the abandoned and now long empty waterskin, returning soon after with a full one and two more pieces of bread.

Arthur practically grabbed the waterskin from his hand before he even had the chance to chuck it in and drank thirstily just as in the morning. Clearly the Prince knew nothing of rationing as he'd finished the first one before midday.

Merlin though was furious. His lips were cracked and his throat was so dry he was surprised he could swallow. He'd also picked up a monster headache, and he wasn't sure whether that was from the lack of water or the the fever he was running from the cold.

Merlin held out his hand again for the waterskin as with the morning. The Prince again glared and tightened his hold.

"Please. I need water too." He pleaded with a raspy voice.

The Prince didn't relent and Merlin lowered his hand. He was much to sick to fight him on this. He couldn't even eat, so he left both pieces for the Prince and curled up for a night of no doubt restless sleep.

XxX

Arthur was starving. He'd had nothing but four bits of bread today and some water. He didn't realise it was possible for his stomach to hurt this much. The pain rivalled only by that of his leg, which after a day of being tossed about by the uneven ground was clearly the winner of that match.

He knew he needed a change of bandages but didn't figure the bandits were going to be very helpful. It hurt to do so but he knew he needed to care for his wound lest it get infected, and then he'd truly never escape. So he carefully unravelled the bandage and winced at the gory sight. The wound was deep and bloody but luckily not too big. Just the width of a sword, a clean cut straight in and out. It didn't hit bone or go all the way through so that was a bonus. But the muscle of his leg was clearly severely damaged. He tried to drop a bit of water into it and clean it a bit, but gave up quickly due to the pain. So he just washed the bandage as best he could with as little water as he could before tying it up again.

The pain though could only keep him awake so long. And after refusing to sleep all night and day due the promixity of the sorcerer, his body couldn't stay so tense and alert for so long. He soon nodded off himself.


	3. Playing Nursemaid

It had been days and still the Knight's hadn't found Arthur. Uther paced back and forth in the council chambers. How dare bandits take his son! The whole citadel was in upheavel, the only heir to the throne - missing. Uther wasn't sure what he thought of more. The future of his kingdom, or the smiling child who'd looked so happy to finally be grown enough to travel on his own. His boy. He'd been so proud of Arthur. He was growing as a prince and as a man. And now he was gone. That last smile had haunted Uther's steps these past few days. He had to get his son back. He had to.

The doors banged open and a knight came in. "Sir Owain. Any news?" He'd had all the knights combing the forest endlessly. And nothing. Some blood from where he was taken and any other trace gone.

"We found some broken branches that indicated a path, but they disappeared not far along. They were heading South we believe sire. We went all the way to the border, but we could go no further."

The barest trace. Without hope.

"Which border did you track them to."

"Deorham sire. But they could have as easily turned unexpectantly west, we've no real way of knowing."

It's true he couldn't send a contingent of knights into another kingdom. But this was his heir. He could've perhaps sent word to the King of Deorham, but he didn't trust Alined with the knowledge that his son was alone and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Gather a discrete party. The best knights. You will go undercover into Deorham and find Prince Arthur."

"Sire!"

"That is an order! We cannot leave the heir to the throne in enemy territory. I need not mention how vital it is that you aren't seen. Go!"

The knight bowed, turned on his heel and made his way out of the chambers.

They had to find Arthur. They had to find his son. Uther couldn't lose him too.

XxX

It was a twisting and turning path that travelled no real road - as far as Arthur could discern - most of the way. They drew in and out of thick woods, Arthur concluded they didn't want to get spotted on any well-travelled path. This meant they didn't make great time, maneouvering so many supplies as well as a cage through the woods. However the kidnappers clearly didn't want to lose time and roughly forced the cage along holes and dips and stuck up roots. Arthur's leg didn't appreciate the rough treatment. It was precisely this jerking over a large stone that woke Arthur up quite suddenly that morning.

The sorcerer didn't stir.

They had travelled like this for days. And that was the other problem of travelling through forest and avoiding roads, Arthur couldn't keep up with where they were. The sun rose every morning in the east and set every evening in the west, which was the only direction Arthur could make out. As far as he could tell they'd been travelling south, twisting east and west along the way. The distance they'd travelled he was sure they'd left behind Camelot, and the hope of his father's knights following dwindled everyday. If the kidnappers had taken him across borders, his father would be hard pressed to follow, not many Kings would allow a contingent of Camelot knights through their lands, afterall.

Without any landmarks though, Arthur had no idea how far away he was from Camelot or even which Kingdom he was now in. And they still didn't show any signs of stopping. If they kept going like this they'd hit the sea.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. If they loaded him onto a boat he was sure his father would never find him. Arthur just focused on breathing steadily. All the more reason to escape himself. If only his leg were up to it. The muscle had been severely damaged, and even though the skin over was now healing, the muscle was not up to having any weight put on it. Arthur certainly wasn't going to be running any time soon.

Another root rocked the cage. The sorcerer was thrown sideways. Arthur inched further into his corner. He couldn't stand being so close to magic for so long. They hadn't spoken a word the whole time. Arthur did his very best not to look in his direction.

But even so he couldn't help but notice how sickly the boy was getting. He was paler by the day and if the beading sweat on his brow was any indication, he was getting feverish.

All the more reason to stay on his side of the cage. He was already wounded, he didn't need whatever sickness the boy had caught too. It was miracle really that his leg hadn't been infected.

Arthur still didn't share the water. Just another thing he didn't need infected.

The boy let out a whine in his sleep. Must've been over a day he hadn't woken now. Arthur was sure that wasn't good. He looked almost pitiful like this. Sick and feverish and unconscious. He was even younger than Arthur was if he actually looked. And Arthur did. He took notice of the boy who'd been trapped in this cage with him for the better part of a week. He was skinny. Much too skinny. And young. Pitiful really.

_'__Magic corrupts everyone. The old and young alike.' _His father's voice rang in his head. Maybe it was better if he died like this. Never living long enough to be corrupted. But he was a boy, and it felt wrong. And that was really the root of it. It felt completely wrong for the boy to die here. And he was dying. Or at least he certainly looked like it.

Arthur shuffled over warily and reached out stopping before he actually touched the boy- sorcerer. Arthur shook his head. _What was he doing?_ He shuffled back again and thought back to the sureties he had when he was first locked in this cage. That he wouldn't let this sorcerer lower his guard. And he wouldn't.

"We need to stop."

"What is it now?"

"Look at him. The boy won't make it."

The leader looked over at the cage as the sun started to sink in the sky.

"Prince is fine. He's the one they asked for."

"And there's no point having gone to the effort to take the boy just to let him die of fever in the middle of the forest." The bandit- mercenary, Arthur realised, continued to argue. He sounded grouchy instead of concerned, one step above the apathy of his company.

The leader looked back over at the cage letting his gaze go between Arthur and the boy sorcerer. He scowled and dismounted, rummaging in his saddlebags before he walked over to them.

Arthur stared at him, mustering up as much defiance as he could. This lowly mercenary wouldn't control him. And he would pay for what he'd done. Arthur let this thought reassure him.

The leader threw another skin of water, a cloth and a bowl into the cage. "Let the Prince nurse the sorcerer then. He can decided whether the boy lives or dies." The leader called out staring right into Arthur's eyes. Arthur glared back.

The leader turned, mounted and called out to his men to stop wasting time, and the cage lurched into motion once more.

Arthur looked at the water and then at the boy. Live. Or die. His choice. Arthur sat completely still. He was a sorcerer, so it was okay right? He was condemned to die anyway. But maybe it was different, if the boy's fever simply took him, and maybe it was entirely another thing for it to be Arthur's choice that led to his death instead of an arbitrary and unlucky happenstance.

He reached for the waterskin. He was thristy too. It would be alright if it was to conserve his own life. Maybe. No point in them both dying of thirst. And that's what really hollowed out his gut. The boy probably was dying of thirst. Literally. Arthur hadn't given him a drop the entire time they'd been captive together.

Arthur sighed. He couldn't do this. He was going to be King one day. And he'd have to make these sorts of decisions. Life. Or death. And he couldn't choose. But indecision was really the same as choosing death.

"Let's a child die just because he's magic. Heartless a bastard as his father." Arthur heard one of the mercenaries deride to another.

Arthur clenched his teeth. He wasn't heartless and nor was his father. Magic was dangerous, his father had saved their kingdom by removing the threat from his people.

But this sorcerer was a child. Maybe... maybe he could still be saved. He wasn't a threat yet, Arthur was sure. Maybe he was making a big mistake. But he wasn't heartless. And he wasn't ready to make the same hard decisions his father had.

Arthur inched forward and lay a hand on the boy's brow. He was burning. Arthur poured some of the water into the bowl and wet the cloth with it pressing it to his forehead awkwardly. He could feel some of the bandits staring at him.

The boy was curled up too tightly though, so Arthur rolled him over onto his back and straightened him out. He was way too skinny but more worrying, his lips were cracked and bleeding. He'd done this. Arthur grabbed the waterskin again and dripped some into the boy's mouth. He pulled back and stared at him uncertainly. He tried to think back and remember how Gaius got unconscious patients to drink. Arthur started to massage the boy's throat as he'd seen Gaius do, and it took a moment but he felt the boy's throat bob under his hand as he swallowed. Arthurs lips turned up just a little bit. He gave the boy a bit more water and then went back to toweling his brow with the cloth.

It wasn't much but it was all Arthur could do. And if the bandits wanted to snigger at him, then let them.

XxX

Afternoon faded into night, and then dawn broke the sky once more come morning. Arthur hadn't slept. The bandits had given him another waterskin at dinner, and he'd dribbled some more into the boy's mouth before he slaked his own thirst. He'd spent all night trying to cool the boys fever, but he didn't seem to be improving at all. Arthur had something to do though. For the first time in nearly a week he wasn't just sitting in a corner staring at nothing. He focused on the mindless repetitions of cooling the boys brow and was determined not to think about who the boy was with this newfound clarity.

As they set off again that morning one of the mercenaries sidled up to the cage. "I can hardly believe my eyes. Prince Arthur Pendragon, looking after a sorcerer. Surpsied you didn't just leave him burning up. That's the way sorcerers are supposed to die isn't it, burning." He spat, with a twisted smile.

"Well there isn't much else to do!" Arthur spat right back. He didn't care about a sorcerer. He didn't.

The mercenary just raised an eyebrow and trotted ahead, leaving Arthur to continue soaking the boy's brow with water and sweat.

Come nightfall the boy finally stirred. Arthur jumped when he heard the groan and saw the boy's eyes crack open as he squinted around him.

Arthur stilled, hand still holding the cloth to the boy's brow. Everything in him screamed to get away, somehow it was different now he was awake. He hesitated, but did shuffle backwards, back to his corner.

The boy looked around slowly and with his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Muh-" He tries to say but it comes out raspy. Arthur hurriedly grabs the waterskin and holds it out at arms length. The boy looks over at the motion and his eyes widen as though a film cleared from them. He reached out tentatively, as if not daring... but he grasped the water in the end and gulped it down as though he believed someone would take it from him.

The boy tried to sit up but fell backwards again. The cloth slipped from his face and the boy grabbed it. "Did you-" He started turning towards Arthur, but Arthur looked pointedly away.

Just because he didn't want to cause a boy's death, didn't mean he actually had to interact with a sorcerer.


	4. Hesitant

A/N: Thank you so much for all the follows and reviews! It's encouraging to see them so quickly, so here's the next chapter...

XxX

In the hours since Merlin had awoken, the Prince hadn't said a word to him. Merlin couldn't help but stare incredulously at him, with the Prince consistently looking away everytime he glanced over. Despite their refusal to interact with each other, neither of them could bring themselves to ignore each other as they had done.

Merlin was weak and tired and the lack of magic made him feel empty. But he could clearly see in his minds eye that picture of Arthur, holding a cloth to his head. He remembered feeling foggy and disoriented and for a brief but happy moment he'd been able to believe he was back in Ealdor and his mother was nursing him through a fever. But then the moment ended and along with the heartsickness that came with futile hope, was confusion. Last Merlin had been awake, the Prince refused to do anything other than stare resolutely out the cage and withhold life sustaining water from him. He didn't think he'd ever appreciated or loved water more than he had grown to recently. But Merlin couldn't understand why the Prince had seemed to be gelping him, when now he wouldn't even look at him.

The atmosphere in the cage was tense, awkward and curious. Merlin wasn't sure what had happened when he was asleep but at least now the Prince he was trapped with seemed more wary than disgusted. Merlin would prefer it if the Prince would sit a bit closer while he awake instead of just when he was asleep though. He wouldn't mind talking to someone. Even if it that someone was the Prince of Camelot who hated the likes of him. He missed Will.

But that merely caused Merlin to shake his head and focus his mind back on the slowly passing scenery. Thoughts of home would do nothing but make that downtrodden hope in his chest, turn to despair.

XxX

Arthur found it increasingly easy to avoid looking at the boy- sorcerer more and more as the day passed. His face gradually becoming more and more upset with each passing hour. By the time darkness fell, if Arthur looked over he could see silent tears on the boy's - sorcerer's cheeks. Arthur did not feel the need to engage in pity or despair as the boy seemed wont to do. It wouldn't get them anywhere.

Escape. That's what Arthur focused on. And he thought he may have found a way. Often enough one of the mercenaries would disappear and rejoin the group with wine and ale. At night the mercenaries would then enjoy the insensibilities if inebriation as the night wore on. This had happened every other night so far, and considering Arthur had spied one of the mercenaries do return with wine this day, he was sure that the cycle would continue tonight. And for once he felt that he might be able to move.

He'd spent the day testing his leg. As inconspicuously as he could, he stretched the muscle and in his various shuffling movements, supposedly for comfort (an impossible endeavour Arthur had already given up on) he had tested his leg enough to be reasonably sure he could put weight on it without it collapsing underneath him. All he had to do was bide his time until the mercenaries were sufficiently distracted and then all he had to do was find a way to open the cage.

It was nothing more than wooden bars and a metal lock, but Arthur had never learned how to pick locks. Nor did he have anything to saw through wood.

When they finally jerked to a stop, the bandits set up their camp and settled themselves down for their night of revelry. As the men began to nod off, Arthur looked around him for anyway to open the door.

He spied a large rock that wasn't too dull in the dirt just below the cage. Looking around once more to ensure no one was looking his way, Arthur rolled onto his stomach and stretched his arm out as far as he could in an attempt to reach the ground. He could practically feel the eyes of the boy- sorcerer burning into him in curiousity.

His fingers grazed the rock and after too many seconds of reaching and fumbling, he managed to grasp it and sit back up in the cage, rock in hand. Immediately turning to the lock and grasping it in a firm grip, he brought the rock down hard on it. The bang nearly brought his heart to his throat and his head whipped towards the mercenaries, but none had stirred. He brought the rock down again, trying to break the lock.

On his fourth try he succeeded, the warped lock snapping open. With a cry of success that he strangled in his throat so as not to make any more noise he swung open the cage door. He slipped onto the ground as soon as he could, gently testing his left leg. The pain increased but he didn't fall and putting his weight on his right leg, he thought _'__I'm free'_.

Turning around he saw the boy staring at him with wide eyes brimming with hope and fear. Arthur bit his lip. He wanted more than anything to get away from this sorcerer as much as the mercenaries; But he couldn't leave him here. The boy had been kidnapped and wanted freedom as much as he. So shushing the voice in his head that sounded like his father's, Arthur whispered the first words he ever said to the boy, "Come on."

The boy's eyes grew even wider but he snapped out of his shock and shuffled forward, leaping for the ground.

Both free, with one last look at the unaware mercenaries, Arthur half limped half jogged into the trees, the boy sorcerer beside him. His leg ached all the more with every step and wincing he still tried to gain speed. To make enough distance before any of the men woke up and came after them.

An arm wrapped around his side and jumping he looked over at the boy sorcerer who'd began to support him, urging Arthur onwards at a faster pace. His skin felt wrong where it touched the sorcerer's, but clung onto him anyway, relying on the support as the two boys sped up through the trees.

They couldn't go fast enough. With Arthur's leg and the boy sorcerer still looking pale and fatigued from the prolonged dehydration, they didn't get far before shouts sounded behind them. Fueled by panic the boys tried to hobble faster through the woods but couldn't outpace the mercenaries who surrounded them minutes later.

Both were puffing and Arthur was ready to fall to the ground, dependent on the sorcerer beside him to remain upright.

"Someone trying to make an escape attempt are they?" One sneered.

"Good thing I had to take a piss. Mighta gotten away." Another muttered.

Arthur cursed said man's bladder with a vocabulary he was sure his father didn't know Arthur had.

"Prince of Camelot and a sorcerer, working together. What would your father think?" The older lead bandit asked.

Arthur felt the shame he'd pushed away leap up in his gut and he wrenched his arm from around the sorcerer's neck only to immediately fall ungracefully to the ground. The mercenaries laughed in a tone Arthur could only call both drunk and malicious. The jeering was unfamiliar and felt like daggers drawing up his spine.

"What about you, little sorcerer. Helping the Prince hobble along. When he'd kill you the second his father ever ordered it." His menacing sing song voice phased into hateful spitting. Arthur didn't look up at the boy sorcerer's face to see his reaction.

"I've an idea." A bandit from behind Arthur piped up, "Why don't we allow the little sorcerer his due. Let him enact some vengeance on the Prince whose name means his death sentence." He sneered.

Arthur paled and sucked in a breath. Instead of escape he's merely become this drunken group's nightly entertainment. Humiliated and furious at their suggestions, and the vitriol against his father's reign. His father was good King! He protected his people from the likes of them. And the likes of sorcerers. Much like the boy now standing above him. You couldn't trust sorcerers, Arthur well knew, his father had told him all the time. No doubt the sorcerer would give in the jeering group. Arthur didn't bother to look up.

XxX

Merlin couldn't stop shaking his head. Couldn't stop shaking at all. He was shivering from the cold and fear and now couldn't even bring himself to speak. The men were now all joining in with cries of encouragement. Encouragement to hurt the Prince at his feet.

But Merlin didn't want to. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

"His father would see you burn alive. This boy would watch you die gleefully." One of the men snapped at him when Merlin continued to stand unmoving.

Merlin looked down at the Prince. And he saw a blurry face looking on in wariness... and concern as it held a cloth to his head just this morning. He saw a boy standing at the door to freedom and urging him to move. His blonde hair highlighted by the fire and conflict of the moment shown clear on his face.

This Prince hated him. Merlin knew. And this boy had helped him. Merlin knew that too. And whatever else Merlin was, he wasn't bitter or vengeful and had no desire to hurt this boy who couldn't even stand for having done no crime except have a father.

Gulping, Merlin reached inside and to his delight found magic. Overjoyed at the sudden rightness in his body and the banishment of the emptiness, he almost drowned out the crows of the mercenaries around him. But only for a moment, and when he tuned back in to his surrounding, his eyes glowed gold and all the men were thrown through the air away from them.

Looking back at the boy on the ground, he saw him staring in shock and fright at the men slumped against trees. One moved. Merlin sent another blast of magic that hit his head harder against the tree. The Prince's eyes widened.

Merlin leaned down and grabbing the boy's arm, he heaved the startled and resistant boy to his feet. Ignoring the stiffness of the boy by his side, Merlin navigated through the dark and the roots and the twigs, taking extra care not to trip from his own clumsiness, lest he bring them both down, rather painfully for the other boy's leg. Neither said a word.

XxX

A/N: And they're free! But not quite safe yet...

I don't have any idea for a regular schedule for updates unfortunately. I have exams coming up. But I know where I'm going with this, and fair warning I expect this to be a long story. It should be several episodic type arcs, as Merlin and Arthur try to get home. I hope you all enjoy as much as me.

I just find young Merlin and Arthur so cute!


	5. Travelling Companions

Arthur relished the cold fresh water of the stream. He cupped his hands and took a long drink before splashing it in his face and giving himself at least a cursory wash. The water was the best thing he'd felt in a week. Nevertheless he couldn't relax. The sorcerer was sitting just a few feet downstream likewise basking in the joys of cleanliness and hydration. Arthur knelt stiffly, on guard. He knew his muscles would ache for the tension later.

The sorcerer had blown every man in that band of mercenaries back by feet and knocked them all unconscious. He'd whacked a man's skull against a tree without thought.

And he'd saved them.

Why? Arthur couldn't help asking. As much as Arthur hated the mercenaries all the more for every word that come out of their mouths the night before, they were, at some level, right. His father, his name, meant a death sentence for the sorcerer next to him. And yet instead of attacking Arthur, as sorcerers who were angry at his father did, the boy had gone against the mercenaries.

And sure that much Arthur could understand. The boy had been kidnapped by the mercenaries, they were on no account going to be allies due to simply a hatred for Arthur's father's reign. But that didn't explain why even after freeing himself, the boy had then had helped Arthur to his feet and then miles through the forest all night. The boy was clearly exhausted and had no reason to bring him along and slow himself down. He could have left Arthur there. Arthur wondered what ulterior motives the sorcerer could have, they all did after all didn't they?

But the boy hadn't done anything. And now in the dawn light they'd stumbled upon a stream and safely distanced - tired to the bone, they'd collapsed before it.

What now? That was the real question. They'd escaped and now were... well Arthur wasn't sure where they were. That was the problem. After stumbling around the forest all night Arthur wasn't even sure what direction the mercenaries had originally been taking them in. He'd gathered they were heading more or less South and could tell quite easily from the rising sun which way was North. But he had no more than a general direction, and no idea what he may stumble upon between. Nevertheless it was something.

And nevertheless his body wasn't moving anywhere anytime soon. His arms felt fatigued simply moving to clean himself. His eyes could barely stay open and his

leg was protesting the night's antics rather painfully. He needed to rest. But he was in the middle of the forest with a sorcerer, and mercenaries somewhere behind them. And he didn't have a choice.

Resenting the situation, he spoke up, "We can't go any further. We should rest here awhile." He didn't look over at the sorcerer and simply stared singularly into the water.

"Okay."

"One of us should stay awake. Keep watch for those mercenaries."

After a beat of thoughtful silence, "You want to sleep first?"

Finally glancing over at the sorcerer with suspicion, he saw nothing more than the boy's guileless face. Conflicted and confused and concerned. Why did magic have to look so innocent. He had no right looking that innocent after what he'd done last night. The power he'd displayed, the ruthlessness. The sound of that man's skull cracking against the bark of the tree rang in his mind. Just thinking about it sent shards of ice down Arthur's spine. His father was right, magic was unnatural and sorcerer's were by their nature evil. He wasn't about to trust one.

"Is that some sort of trick?" Arthur asked.

Confusion prevailed on the boy's face. "You said someone should stay awake."

"And you're what, offering out of compassion." Arthur snorted.

The confusion cleared and the boy's brow furrowed in a more guarded look. "You need to sleep."

"So do you and yet you're offering to wait."

The boy's eyebrows then rose comically. "What is it you think I'm trying to do?"

"Kill me in my sleep." Arthur suggested flatly.

"So I go first and you kill me instead?"

Arthur didn't respond, and for a moment neither spoke, simply eyeing each other in suspicion.

"Neither of us is going to trust the other to keep watch." Arthur observed. The boy snorted.

"I wasn't quite so suspicious until you brought it up. Strangely enough the thought of killing you hadn't once entered my mind." The boy bit out.

Arthur raised one eyebrow dubiously. The boy just rolled his eyes.

"I swear I won't do anything while you sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours for my turn." The boy promised.

Wanting nothing more than to run in the other direction and get away from the sorcerer, but with a beyond exhausted and uncooperative body, Arthur didn't have a choice but to shuffle away from the stream and curl up against a tree a few feet away. Without bedding or blankets he could only pull his jacket tighter around him and close his eyes. He was too tired. Even thought he suspected the boy would try something and knew he couldn't trust a sorcerer's word, his exhausted body gave him no choice. He had to sleep and despite the unfamiliarly hard ground, he did just that.

XxX

He was shaken awake gently, the touch almost hesistant. Blinking his eyes open he saw the sorcerer hovering over him. He sat up, awake in a moment; the boy jumped back startled. Arthur stared at the sorcerer while silence reigned, the sorcerer merely blinked.

"It's been a few hours." The sorcerer muttered.

Arthur looked up at the sky, now well and truly late morning, and nodded his head is confirmation. He eyed the sorcerer as he made his way to his own tree and took his own turn to rest.

He hadn't killed him in his sleep at least. That didn't guarantee much about the future. He probably had some hidden reason for wanting Arthur alive for now. Arthur though about taking his chance and running while the sorcerer was unaware; but Arthur was sore. Asides from his leg, his whole body now ached from sleeping on the hard ground. He wasn't going anywhere under his own power.

He tried to stretch and move himself into a more comfortable sitting position, back against the tree and legs laid gently out in front.

The stream bubbled contentedly and Arthur jumped at every small animal that rustled a bush. But no one had come after them. Arthur sat in silence with nothing but the company of a sleeping sorcerer. He couldn't help but recognise the irony. The Prince of Camelot keeping watch over a sorcerer. But then everything about this was ironic. And none of it made any sense.

The boy made little noises in his sleep. And fidgeted. A lot. But Arthur could tell the boy was as exhausted at him. Surely more so due to his sickness. A twinge of guilt still flared in his chest at that thought, but Arthur shoved it viciously aside.

More than anything he hated this conflict that happened simply from being near the sorcerer. He didn't want to cause the boy's death, if he was honest he didn't much want to watch the boy die at all, despite the mercenaries' words. But he didn't trust him. He'd helped him, even told him to come with him to escape when Arthur could have just left the door open and surely the boy would've left on his own. He'd relied on the boy simply to walk the night before. And probably would again this night if they kept moving. He was reliant on a sorcerer. And he hated that. But that didn't mean he trusted him.

And he was scared of him. After the night before. All those men flying through the air. Arthur couldn't get the image out of his mind. But he also couldn't forget the crackle of power in the air, something altogether more subtle, felt by something deep inside, and altogether more memorable. The boy was undoubtably not only a sorcerer, but a powerful one. And now it wasn't just a term a mercenary had used and that Arthur had bandied about in his thoughts. The boy had used magic and Arthur had seen it. And Arthur was scared of him.

Which was hard to admit when the boy was sleeping. He looked so tiny and peaceful, and damn it all, innocent! It was completely deceitful that face, that guileless face that told no warning of the power underneath. Arthur decided that maybe that was what was so dangerous about sorcerers. They weren't like any other monster, they could decieve you into thinking they were just like you.

Whiling away his time thinking, Arthur eventually looked into the sky and deemed the sun had fallen enough from its peak to call it the end of his watch. So at mid-afternoon Arthur approached the sorcerer with a resolute confidence hiding his inner fear, and shook the boy awake with a shove.

The sorcerer blinked open his eyes and noticing Arthur, slowly pulled himself up. Rubbing at his eyes, he then seemed to study Arthur in a way that had Arthur shifting uncomfortably.

"Guess neither of us killed the other then."

Arthur resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and instead pulled himself back across the ground to his own tree, not trusting himself to stand up.

The sorcerer's gaze told Arthur that he'd noticed and he felt too exposed, allowing a sorcerer to see his vulnerabilities.

"Are we going to try and move before its dark?" The boy asked.

"We should."

"You still can't walk." He pointed out.

"I hadn't noticed." Arthur spit back, glaring. The sorcerer didn't seem to pay any mind to his glare and rolled his eyes.

The sorcerer responded, "We could stay one more night if you don't want to lean on me the entire time."

"We can't just sit around. They will come after us." Arthur replied, frustration leaking through.

"Thought you didn't like being so close to me." Arthur didn't. That was the problem.

"Yeah well, I don't have much choice do I?" He snapped.

The boy's eyebrows rose, and the two descended once more into silence.

The boy looked away and sighed before looking back at Arthur. "You don't like me. I get it. But for now, we need each other. So how about we forget that you're a Prince and I'm a sorcerer for now. And you can go back to hating me when you get home and can afford to."

The sorcerer was right. Arthur hated it but the sorcerer was right. He stood up and walking over to Arthur offered his hand to help him up.

Arthur stared at him and at his hand and back at him. The sorcerer just stood there, waiting patiently for a response. As the moment stretched on and Arthur didn't do anything, he started to get awkward and fidgeted; His hand still held out.

"But you are a sorcerer." Arthur said shortly.

"My name's Merlin."

Arthur stared at him contemplatively. The boy hadn't hurt him. Even when he'd been told to, the boy hadn't hurt him. He'd helped him. And for the moment they did need each other. But... "You can't use magic. At least as long as we have to put up with each other, you can't use it." He tried to avoid his voice shaking when he said the word, _magic, _it just brought last night events to the forefront of his mind. No matter if he wasn't going to hurt Arthur, it was bad enough having to be around someone he knew was capable of such feats. At least if he didn't use it so blatantly, Arthur could almost ignore the boy's capability. Almost.

The sorcerer scrunched up his face in thought. "What if that's not possible?" He asked warily. Arthur glared. The boy sighed, "Fine. I won't use it for now."

Arthur let out a breath. He supposed he could at least bear it this way.

The boy's hand was still outstretched and finally reaching his own hand out in acceptance he said, "Arthur." And let the boy- Merlin pull him to his feet. Leaning on one leg, Arthur held onto Merlin.

"Which way?" The boy asked, looking around lost and confused.

"That way." Arthur pointed. "North."

Merlin nodded and together they headed North.


	6. Crossing the Line

Even after getting a few hours sleep, both boys were incredibly tired. And hungry. As the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, Arthur's stomach growled. Merlin realised that neither of them had eaten since the night before and they didn't have any food.

Merlin stopped moving, and Arthur, arm still braced around Merlin's shoulder had no choice but to stop as well.

"What are you doing?" Arthur hissed at him.

"We need to find food." Merlin told him.

"We need to keep moving before they catch up to us." Arthur snapped trying to tug Merlin forwards.

"We're not going to get very far if we don't eat." Merlin argued. Arthur sighed. His stomach grumbled again. "You're clearly hungry."

Arthur glared at him. "Fine." Arthur drawled sarcastically, "What shall we eat then? Grass?"

Both boys were glaring at each other now. "No. We should find some berries or fruit or something."

Arthur didn't say anything but removed him arm from around Merlin and gingerly, favouring his left leg Merlin noticed, lowered himself to the ground.

"Go find something then. But you can't take long." Arthur ordered.

"Why am I finding the food?" Merlin's voice rose in outrage. "I don't care if in Camelot you're a Prince but out here you're not and I'm not your subject." Arthur glared some more. Seriously, Merlin wasn't about to just walk off and leave him sitting alone in the middle of the forest with no way to defend himself.

"Watch your mouth." Arthur growled.

"No." Merlin leaned down and grabbing Arthur's arm hooked it back around his neck to haul him to his feet. "I'm not your servant, and you can help find food." Merlin muttered angrily.

So instead of making their semi-speedy way straight through the forest, the two boys ambled around the area trying to find anything edible.

"There!" Arthur pointed towards a bush sprouting berries and reached towards them. Merlin slapped his hand away.

"What is wrong with you? Are you trying to poison us?"

"Well how am I to know that they're poisonous? I don't exactly do this often."

Merlin rolled his eyes. But he supposed he should have expected a spoilt Prince not to know his berries. In any case Winter was nearly here, and most of the plant life was already barren for the season. Merlin didn't hold out much hope for finding anything naturally.

"We'll have to keep going. Just keep our eyes out for anything we pass." Merlin said disappointed.

Arthur huffed as Merlin angled them back North. Looking over he saw that Arthur seemed frustrated. He didn't know whether that was because they'd wasted their time or because he too recognised it was not good if they didn't find food, and soon. They were hungry. And Merlin knew they wouldn't be able to continue like this for long.

XxX

Sir Leon took watch that night while the other two knights, Owain and Pellinore slept. His shoulder still ached where he'd gotten a nasty bruise from the bandit attack, but all in all he had gotten away from the ambush better than most. Injuries didn't mean much once they realised they'd lost the Prince. Leon had never felt more ashamed. He should've run with the boy to ensure he got away safely. He should've done something. And he spent his watch thinking of just that. Analysing everything that had happened that day that could've saved the Prince. He had to be sure it would never happen again. Because there would be another chance for bandits to ambish a royal envoy with the Prince present, because they were going to get Prince Arthur back. There was simply no other option. That was why Leon had volunteered for this mission afterall. He had to do something to find the Prince.

They'd crossed the border to Deorham the day before. It was time to be extra vigilant. They'd left their cloaks in Camelot and continued as sparsely armoured as they dared so they may pass as well equipped bandits instead of knights.

With the moon a bare sliver in the sky, vision wasn't great. But Leon was sure he had seen... something. A flash of reflected light? He squinted through the trees. Probably just a hare. Hopefully. Nevertheless he couldn't make it out.

The forest was silent. He couldn't hear any snapping twigs or rustling bushes. Maybe the hare had gone back to it's burrow? The only noise he could hear was a hooting owl.

Until he saw the figure of man appear in front of him sword drawn. He leapt to his feet drawing his own just in time to meet the blow. He yelled out to try and wake Owain and Pellinore, warn them of the other figures surrounding them; Clothed in mail and cloaks - knights of Deorham.

Leon focused on his opponent and meeting every blow he changed his stance to try and take the offensive, but a brutal swing of his opponent's sword made him slide back into defense.

A burning pain erupted in his side and he fell to his knees before he could make out the knight who'd snuck up behind him. The first knight disarmed him in his distracted pained haze. Reaching down he could feel his fingers meet a stickiness, the wound was bleeding. With heavy, gasping breaths he tried to focus on getting to his feet. He couldn't fail again.

It was no use. Looking around he saw Owain and Pellinore also disarmed and on their knees. Leon felt rope being tied around his wrists and grunted when he was hauled to his feet.

Capture. He thought as he was dragged away through the forest. 'At least they don't know we're from Camelot' He thought. He'd already failed Prince Arthur for a second time. He didn't want to fail all of Camelot too.

XxX

"I recognise that one. Sparred in a joust... Pellinore wasn't it?" One of the knights in the throne room said. Leon wanted to hit him.

"A knight? From which Kingdom?" The King spat now sounding furious.

After a day's trek tied to Deorham horses, they'd been brought to the citadel itself. King Alined was not best pleased.

"Camelot." The aforementioned knight answered succinctly.

The King seemed only more incensed at this. Now turning his attention to Leon, Owain and Pellinore, "Camelot knights. Trespassing into my kingdom. Has Uther no regard for the authority of others? This is a declaration of war." He stated lowly and firmly.

Leon bit the inside of his cheek. The King was right. And they'd all known the risk. Deorham could go to war. And then how would they find the Prince? If Prince Arthur had even been taken into Deorham. The border between Camelot and Deorham was small and Nemeth was not even a day's ride east from where'd they'd entered. This could all have been for nothing.

"I don't suppose any of you gentlemen would be willing to explain the situation to me?" Alined asked when the silence drew on uninterrupted.

They couldn't. They couldn't say that Prince Arthur, the only heir to Camelot, was possibly alone and vulnerable within Alined's borders. There was no way they could say that.

Alined did not appreciate the silence. "Perhaps a few days down in my dungeons will loosens your tongues." He ordered, gesturing for his knights to drag them away.

As they were taken down corridors and steps into increasingly darker and more musky corridors, Leon just kept repeating in his head: They couldn't say. They couldn't say.

XxX

'How dare Camelot send knights into his Kingdom!' Alined raged as the throne room emptied. Uther truly had outdone himself this time. Always so high and mighty in Camelot, not giving a care in the world as to how large a scope of power he had; and it's limitations. No doubt coveting every realm under his jurisdiction. To enforce his tyranny on everyone. Well Alined was not going to let this slide.

"Call in the troops in preparation. Assemble the knights in the citadel. Gather the harvests. And sent a delegate to Uther Pendragon. If he wants to trespass into my borders, he will have war." Alined ordered to the lords and knights who were still there for council. At his orders they all hurried out to their own respective tasks.

XxX

Arthur was well and truly starving now. He'd been irritated the night before when Merlin brought up their need to eat, even though he'd recognised it too, but now, a night and day later, they still hadn't found anything. Two days since he'd last eaten and Arthur could practically feel himself getting weaker. He'd begun to panic about midday. They needed to find food.

He was grumpy too. Possibly because of the precious little sleep he'd gotten in the wee hours of the morning, or his progressively emptier stomach or his aching leg which was now worse from Merlin suddenly shoving him to the ground behind a tree.

"What are you-" He hissed at the boy before he saw the boy raise his finger to his lips for quiet. Arthur stared incredulously before he saw where Merlin was looking. Shuffling to peek around the tree he saw a pair of travelers getting off their horses. He wanted to hit himself for not being aware of his surroundings. Distracted by his predicament and his growing panic from the lack of food.

"Thought it was the mercenaries." Merlin whispered, and Arthur sensed relief in his voice. "Think they have food?" The boy asked as he angled himself as though moving to get up.

Arthur gripped his arm and roughly pulled him back down, "Where do you think you're going? They'll see you!" He whispered back.

"They're just travelers. And they'll have food."

Arthur rolled his eyes. The boy was so naive. "They could be anyone. Just because they're not the ones who kidnapped us doesn't mean that they won't."

"Bit pessimistic aren't you?"

"If they found out I was a Prince, who knows what they'd do." He tried to explain. At the boy's blank expression he continued, "Or that you're a sorcerer." Merlin flinched.

"How could they know? We're just two boys travelling in the woods."

"Yes, because that's not suspicious at all." Arthur whispered sarcastically.

Merlin looked at him pointedly. "Arthur, I know it's not a _great_ idea, but they have food and a fire. We've got a better chance with them than we do out on our own. We'll freeze to death first, and if not, then we'll starve!" He hissed.

Arthur bit his lip. He hated it when the sorcerer was right. He almost wanted to continue refusing just to spite him, but he knew he was right. To an extent. They would starve without food. And it'd been freezing last night as soon as the sun went down. Arthur at least still had his cloak, Merlin only had a thin jacket. And they hadn't dared light their own fire last night.

Arthur didn't have a response.

"Fine, we don't let them see us. We could always steal it."

Arthur's eyes widened. "That's illegal!" He hissed, before realising he was talking to a sorcerer. Of course he'd choose the criminal way.

"Any other ideas on how to feed ourselves then?" Merlin was glaring at him now.

"How would you even steal it? You promised not to use magic."

"Well unless you see any other way."

Arthur glared back at him. "You can't."

"If it comes to a choice between making you uncomfortable and dying of starvation, I know what I'm going to choose."

Arthur's breath picked up. "You promised you wouldn't." He repeated.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I promised I'd try. And I have! I haven't touched magic all day."

"What would you have even used it for? A single day's not much." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew that magic was addictive, but one day? The boy couldn't go one day without magic?

"Oh because you know so much about it? You don't anything about me." Merlin scoffed. "I'm going to eat tonight, do you want any, or you are going to starve on your hill of self-righteousness."

Arthur blinked. He hadn't seen Merlin angry before. And he maybe he wasn't angry per se, but frustrated and annoyed and hungry, but it looked close enough to anger for Arthur to remember the last time he saw Merlin use magic. He was sure his heart was racing. He couldn't stand this.

"Fine." Arthur whispered. He couldn't even inject any vitriol into it. He didn't want the boy to be angry with him.

The boy finally looked away and Arthur saw his eyes flash gold as he looked over at the travelers. A man and a woman. Probably a couple. Completely unsuspecting, Arthur couldn't help but think. He was expecting to suddenly see them go flying through the air, to hear their skulls hit tree trunks. But instead he just saw a small cloth bundle float out of one of the saddlebags and over towards them.

Merlin grabbed the bundle when it was close enough and with his other hand helped Arthur back to his feet, quietly. They slowly made their way away from the travelers wary of their step.

They continued, a few hours later once it was well and truly dark the two boys sank to the ground inbetween some very large tree roots.

Arthur shuffled himself against the tree and was thankful for its support when a fire leapt up at his feet. Looking over at Merlin he realised he'd used magic again.

He saw the boy open the bundle to reveal some bread and cheese and an apple. Merlin tucked the apple into his pocket, "For later." He said noticing Arthur's stare. He then broke the bread and cheese and handed some to Arthur.

It seemed a pitiful amount, but Arthur didn't care. He was so hungry. His eyes darted to Merlin's pocket, but he understood. They'd need something to eat tomorrow too.

So laying down by the fire, he tried to not to think about how it was made, Arthur simply relished in the warmth as he fell asleep again, leaving Merlin to take first watch. He'd just have to bring up the magic tomorrow.

XxX

The next morning Arthur shoved Merlin awake to dawn light and a dead fire. The fire had disappeared at some point during Arthur's shift and he'd had no way to light it again. It had been cold shift.

"We need to talk."

"I thought we needed to get moving. You're always on about gaining distance. How do you even know they're still following us?"

Because it was better to assume that they were. But Arthur wasn't going to bother explaining knight's training to a sorcerer.

"You can't use magic." Arthur stated in what he thought was a firm voice.

Merlin finally looked at him, staring. "You weren't complaining when you got to fall asleep warm." He shot back, but Arthur noticed his voice was distinctly less strong.

'Because I was tired and sore and cold.' He thought, but the Merlin already knew enough of his vulnerabilities. "That's not the point. I get last night, but you need to promise again. From now on." Arthur tried to be understanding.

The boy narrowed his eyes at Arthur and looked as though he wanted to say something more. But he must have reconsidered as he just said, "Fine." And made to help Arthur up.

Arthur shooed his hand away and using the trunk he pulled himself to his feet. He was determined not to lean on Merlin today. "I can walk myself."

Merlin shrugged and turned around to start walking North.

Arthur spent most of the morning thinking about food. More specifically how to find some. He had no idea where the nearest village or town was and they weren't finding any edible plantlife so close to Winter. Arthur knew how to hunt. Now he just had to figure out how to hunt without a crossbow. Or any weapon, not even a knife. Not to mention skinning and cooking the animal. He wasn't letting Merlin make another fire that night no matter how cold they were.

"Why do you hate magic so much?" Merlin suddenly asked, jarring Arthur from his thoughts.

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked raising an eyebrow in what he thought was a good imitation of Gaius.

He didn't think it was anywhere near as effective as the physician's though, as Merlin just repeated his question, "Why do you hate magic?"

"What sort of question even is that?" Arthur scoffed at the boy's figure ahead of him. Arthur couldn't help but lag behind due to limping his way, and he knew the boy was going slowly to match his pace. Merlin hadn't even bothered to look at him though so he just stared at the back of his head.

"You must have some reason for hating magic."

"Obviously." Arthur said, but decided to explain what clearly no one ever had. "It's evil."

"Why?" He looked back at this point and Arthur didn't know what look it was that he could see on Merlin's face.

Stumbling around a tree root Arthur decided to take pity on the boy. "I understand that likely no one ever educated you on this. Clearly." He scoffed. "But magic is corruptive. It's addictive and once you start using it you don't want to stop. It festers like a wound and turns your heart dark."

"That's not true." Merlin said defensively eyes widening.

"Really? You couldn't last one day without using it." Arthur argued.

Merlin flinched. "That doesn't prove anything." He lowered his voice," If there'd been a way to eat without magic I wouldn't have had to." He said turning back around and speeding up his pace.

Arthur tried to limp faster but that was a hopeless endeavour.

They travelled with a larger gap between them but Arthur decided he actually preferred it that way. As long as Merlin stayed in sight he didn't really mind. Mid-afternoon Merlin backtracked to Arthur's side and after enjoying the space Arthur wanted to groan.

Merlin just held out the apple though. "Not sure we can split this without a knife." He said.

Arthur wanted to tell him '_Well guess I'll just have it then'_ and snatch it from his hand, but that reminded him of all those days in the cage. Refusing Merlin water and watching him nearly die. He gulped the words down instead.

"You have it." He said instead. "I have another idea."

And he did. All those hours thinking and he had come up with a plan. Most of a plan. He'd searched the bank of the stream they'd stopped at for flint but hadn't found any. The other part of his plan could still work though. He'd found some decent sized stones and had been gathering them throughout their walk.

"We just need to find a branch that splits in two."

Merlin stared at him in bewilderment and opened his mouth but at Arthur's glare turned around and started to examine the ground while he ate the apple.

He eventually picked up a stick and turned around to Arthur. "Like this?" It was shaped like one of those water divining rods.

"Exactly." He grabbed it from Merlin and taking off his cloak he removed the ties from it, ignoring Merlin's increasingly baffled looks.

Using the string and stick he fashioned a makshift slingshot and pulling out a stone he tested it out on a nearby tree. It wasn't great but it should work Arthur decided.

"It's called hunting." Arthur said.

Merlin raised his brows looking surprised and Arthur liked to think slightly impressed but he was probably just imagining it.

He'd seen enough small wildlife. All he really needed to do was knock an animal unconscious or at least startle and confuse the animals even if his slingshot couldn't kill it. He could always hit it with a rock afterwards once he could get close enough.

It still took him awhile. Too long. Merlin found the whole attempt hilarious, especially when Arthur limp-chased after a dazed rabbit. The rabbit got away. That only made Merlin laugh harder. Arthur didn't appreciate the insult. He'd even given Merlin the whole apple and waited himself to eat. He was starving while he tried to hunt.

Eventually he killed a squirrel and the two boys set off once more.

Arthur searched the river they stopped at for the night for any sign of flint, but again found nothing. Grumbling he squinted even as the darkness descended, determined to find a way to start a fire that didn't involve magic. Merlin stood behind him shivering the whole time.

"Arthur..."

"No." Arthur cut him off sharply. He knew what he was going to ask and no Merlin would just have to wait until Arthur found some flint.

He could hear the boy's intake of him and quiet shuffling from foot to foot. But Arthur didn't care at this point if the boy felt awkward. He was too hungry to even be awkward himself.

_Aha. _Finally! "Got some." Arthur said.

Merlin hurried back to the forest edge and Arthur followed to see where Merlin was quickly setting up some kindling.

It took only a few bangs to create spark enough to light the kindling and both boys breathed out matching sighs of joyful relief.

As Arthur set the quirrel on the makeshift spit Merlin shot him a quick smile. Arthur blinked before focusing on the squirrel, distancing himself. It was weird... To be so friendly with Merlin. With a sorcerer. To have hunted and prepared dinner for the two of them. He shook his head and thought on the mouthwatering smells that had him salivating already.

XxX

Uther sat at the head of council listening to grain reports and land disputes. He shouldn't be here. His son was missing! But the Kingdom kept running and Camelot needed a King. He hadn't yet heard back from the group in Deorham and the rest of knights still found nothing within Camelot's borders.

A knock was sounded on the council doors. Uther would've appreciated the break from monotony if he didn't know it was going to be another knight's report explaining how they'd found no sign of his son. Regardless he stubbornly insisted on hearing every report. Updates on the missing Prince took precedence over every other matter.

He signalled for them to open the doors and found instead of another knight reporting in, an escort for a messenger.

"Sire. I come from Deorham with a missive from King Alined."

Uther's heart dropped. It took him a moment to remember breathing and recall that he had to reply. Nodding his head for the messenger to deliver his message, he hoped beyond hope that it wasn't what he feared.

Unrolling a scroll the messenger read out in a clear and formal voice, "For the blatant trespass of Camelot knights into Deorham lands for which there is no possible justification, Deorham sees it only fit to respond in kind. You have declared war on Deorham. All that is to come, is of your own doing." He rolled up the scroll and offered it to a startled lord who held out his hand to verify the truth.

Uther blinked. He couldn't do much else. He couldn't quite think. Prince Arthur was missing and he had to find him. Instead he'd started a war. But he couldn't appease Alined and he knew it. Alined was a prideful King, he wouldn't allow this insult. And Uther couldn't justify it without giving him an advantage over Camelot. He had no reason for the knights to have been in Deorham lands. But how could he find his son if he went to war? And if Arthur was in Deorham, he would be caught in the middle of it with no protection. Uther couldn't pull out of war. He bowed his head as he realised he couldn't save his son.

"Gather the forces and supplies. We need to hit them before they can hit us. We march for Deorham in 3 days." He'd find Arthur there himself.

XxX

A/N: This chapter was originally centred around the knights/Deorham issue and there was no Merlin and Arthur in it. But realising that the space between the knights getting captured and war being declared was several days I added in the Merlin and Arthur bits in chronologically, between the other scenes.

Basically you all got extra content this chapter! Lucky you!


	7. War Is Coming

The dungeon was dark and filthy. Leon was chained in a cell with Pellinore. They'd already dragged away Owain. If the screams that echoed from below were any indication, it wasn't hard to guess what for.

Leon didn't know how long they'd been listening to Owain's screams. There was no way to tell. The screams stopped in the end. Dying off.

When there was the scraping of boots and rattling of chains instead, Leon looked up at the door in time to see it opened and Owain thrown in. Bruised and bloody. Leon didn't want to look much closer than that.

The guard stepped forward and taking a firm grasp of Leon's arm, hauled him out of the room and down the corridor. It had been three days, Leon had been expecting this. The foreboding wait was finally over.

He breathed deeply through his nose. Calmed his heart rate. He'd been trained for it. His instructors had all told him about torture, and loyalty, about dying for your kingdom. If he suffered he suffered.

"Hello. I do hope you're more honest than your fellow?" Questioned the torturer that Leon was chained up in front of.

"Now lets see if you don't want to make this easy on yourself. Why are you here?" He asked in a falsely pleasant voice.

Leon pressed his lips even tighter shut.

"Shame." The man said, picking up a metal instrument.

As the pain started Leon focused on one thing. 'I will not fail Prince Arthur again. I will not fail him.'

XxX

It had been three more days Arthur had been lost in the forest with a sorcerer. But things had gotten better. They weren't starving anymore for one thing. It wasn't near as much as he was used too, but his hunting technique meant they ate at least twice a day: morning and night. It was an improvement, Arthur figured, one less thing that could kill them.

The cold still could. And every night seemed colder than last even with a fire and his cloak for a blanket.

His main concern though, was that they hadn't come across any other signs of life than the animals Arthur hunted. Not one village or manor or estate. They'd come across some large fields the day before but the open space provided no protection from the wind and they had to retreat back into the forest to survive the night.

The forest may as well have been neverending in Arthur's mind. He knew they were covering little distance, their pitiful pace travelling in a day what with a horse Arthur could manage in less than an hour. On the other hand maybe this particular part of the forest just didn't get much activity. People did tend to travel less in the Winter too. But without coming across anyone, they had no way to find a settlement. Of any kind. And Arthur was wishing for nothing more than walls at this point. A bed would be nice but most of all a roof and a knife and a blanket.

So come morning Arthur had decided with the warmer daylight they's cross the fields. Perhaps they's found some settlements away from the forest.

For all that their lot had become more bearable if not more comfortable, there was a large downside that had appeared that morning. Apparently Merlin really liked to talk. He'd begun spouting all kinds of bizarre and fantastical stories. Arthur could only guess that boy had a large imagination or else some very strange friends. But as much as Merlin had been content to walk in silence as had Arthur for the past few days, the boy wouldn't be quiet anymore.

"What's it like to be a Prince?" And then there'd come the times he tried to get Arthur to talk as well. He dismissed the question with a noncommital hum.

"Do you go to many feasts? Do you have servants? How big is a castle? Do you ever get lost? How many people are there?"

"Why do you want to know?" Arthur snapped, irritated at the endless questions.

Merlin stared at him from where he'd walked ahead. Falling back towards Arthur he said, "I'm just curious."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Why? Going to need information on Camelot for something." And as much as Arthur was mostly sure from the last few days that Merlin didn't have any plans for attacking Camelot, he still felt he had to say it. The boy was a sorcerer, and no matter how many times the boy smiled or fidgeted in his sleep or tripped over absolutely nothing, he had to remember that. He had to remember the image of this very boy snapping a full grown man's skull against a tree. But the image was becoming more and more incongruous with each day he spent with the boy. It was unsettling but Arthur had to keep in mind everything his father said. Merlin could be decieving him, he had to keep his guard up.

"You don't have to distrust everything I say." Merlin mumbled.

"You're a sorceror."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "So?" He asked.

"So I can't trust you." Arthur bit out as though Merlin was being particularly slow. Which in this case Arthur was sure that he was.

"You don't know anything about me." Merlin said annoyed.

"I know enough."

Merlin was quiet for a moment at least, which Arthur had to appreciate. For a time. Unfortunately the boy beside had apparently taken what he'd said to heart and was now brooding beside him. So Arthur was the one who broke the silence.

"Tell me something about you then." Arthur ordered stopping and turning to face him. Merlin halted and furrowed his brow. "You want to know about me, it's only fair you tell me about yourself to."

Merlin shuffled awkwardly. Arthur stared at him unmoving. "You can start with why you suddenly can't shut up today."

Merlin stared at him for a moment. Arthur was began to feel smug, look how he likes having all the questions turned against him.

"You're the only person here." Merlin said simply, just shrugging.

"And what's that supposed to mean."

Now Merlin was looking at Arthur as if he was the one that was particularly slow.

"There's no one else to talk to is there?"

"We aren't friends." Arthur replied harshly.

"Of course; I'd never have a friend who could be such an arse." Merlin retorted. Arthur blinked at him in shock. "I'm not trying to be your friend... but I have to talk to somebody."

Arthur frowned. "Who would you usually talk to?" He asked reluctantly as he turned away began walking again.

Merlin hesitated but ambled behind Arthur and answered. "I had a friend. Will. He was fun."

"Where are you from anyway?" Arthur asked, if Merlin wanted to be so open then Arthur could at least learn about the sorceror he was stuck with.

"A village called Ealdor."

"That's in Essetir isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"You're not from Camelot?" Arthur asked facing Merlin once more. Merlin shook his head.

Facing forward again, Arthur asked himself why it even mattered.

"So... do you go to many feasts?" Arthur stared at him incredulously. "What? I answered your questions."

Arthur sighed. "I suppose. My father doesn't let me stay long."

"What's it like having a King as a father?"

"He expects a lot of me. He has a Kingdom to run. So he doesn't have much a time." Arthur was surprised at himself for saying it. But he thought as long as he didn't look at Merlin, and who was Merlin going to tell? "Sometimes I'd wonder what it's like to have him just a father and not a King." He shook his head and shifted the conversation. "What about your father?"

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "Don't have one."

"You were born." Arthur points out.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "He left my mum before I was even born."

"They weren't..." Arthur studied Merlin's face. "You're a bastard." He said eyes widened.

Merlin flinched. "And you're a prat." Speeding up he left Arthur limping behind unable to keep up. "Only one of those is actually one our faults."

Arthur was fuming.

XxX

Reality was pain. Everything in all totality was pain. Leon had lost track about which parts of his body were hurting or which parts the man was hurting now. All he knew was that it hurt.

"Why are you here."

_Can't say. Can't say._"What was that."

_Can't say. Can't say._"Can't say what?"

_What? _Was he speaking aloud? He couldn't even feel his mouth. Could this man read minds? _What if he was a sorceror? _

"Sorceror? What sorceror?"

_Can'tsaycan'tsaycan'tsaycan'tsay._"Why are you here? What sorceror do you speak of?" A calm voice echoed in Leon's head.

He wanted to make the pain stop. Maybe if he just- No!

_Can'ttellhimaboutArthurcan'ttellhimaboutArthur._"Arthur? Prince Arthur? What about him?"

_Can'tfailArthurcan'tfailArthur._"Fail him how?"

_Nonononononononono._This man could read minds, Leon was sure of it.

Or the pain had made him delusional. One or the other.

XxX

"One of the knights broke, sire." The torturer informed the King.

"And? What causes Uther to trespass into my lands?"

"The knight talked of Prince Arthur and a sorceror. Said that he couldn't fail his Prince. It is my conclusion that Arthyr is somewhere in Deorham, and Uther sent knights after him."

"Prince Arthur in Deorham? Alone?" Alined mused to himself. This could be fortuitous. If he could get his hands on Uther's heir, it could give him an advantage in the coming war.

XxX

Merlin's life had now become the epitome of weird. He was a sorceror, stuck in the middle of the forest with the Prince of Camelot and he couldn't even stop himself from trying to be friendly with him. And even then said Prince proved himself to be an absolute prat. Merlin should've figured. He had no problem's saying that Merlin was corrupted and full of darkness simply because he had magic.

So if he heard Arthur panting jeavily behind as he tried to keep up, and he sped up anyway feeling spiteful, then Merlin thought that was only fair.

He was used to being called a bastard, even if he hadn't always realised what it meant. His mother had refused to tell him, thought it would hurt him more if he knew. But Will explained it to him. He wished Will were here. He would've punched Arthur in the face for acting like this.

But damn it everything was so silent. There was no sound except for that of their feet and the grass stalks they walked through. Merlin didn't like silence. That's why he's began telling random stories and trying to get Arthur to talk. And he was lonely.

But Arthur was direct. He hated magic and he hated Merlin and he didn't even bother to hide it. It was awkward, uncomfortable... painful. _Magic is corruptive. It festers like a wound and turns your heart dark. _Did it? Merlin had heard people say vitriol against before, usually without them knowing he was there and especially without anyone knowing he had magic. But no one was ever quite so blunt or descriptive.

Did it? Everyone acted that way. Everyone knew that magic was evil. Could _everyone_ be wrong? 'But it wasn't it fault!' He wanted to scream. He hadn't asked to be born with magic.

But he thought about Peter, the traveler who stopped by Ealdor years ago, who'd come from Camelot. He talked of the chaos and destruction that sorcerors had wrought. He'd praised their King's laws from saving them. He thought about Joseph who always made sure he and his mother had enough food each Winter after his own daughter had died from starving in one. Joseph who talked about how unnatural magic was. Or Old Man Simmons who'd once ranted to Baldwain that sorcerors, even children, were abhorrent monsters who deserved the watery graves the knights sent them too. Were they all wrong?

Arthur a Prince and his a father a King? They's surely know, Merlin thought. Arthur was an arse too though. Still perhaps he could be right and be an arse.

Not that it changed anything. Merlin still had magic and he still didn't have choice in it. He didn't want to be a monster.

XxX

Uther left Camelot at noon, with a hundred strong band of knights and an army of soldiers that had gathered just south of the citadel. More would come from the outlying lands in time, but for now Uther headed towards Gedref.

There he could place a command post at their port and sending a quarter of his men via boat to Deorham's western shore, while the rest marched across the land border, he could attack Alined from two fronts.

He had plans for this to be short war. The sooner he won, the sooner he could find Arthur.

XxX

A/N: I just had to add in the line about havinga friend who could be an arse, I saw the opportunity.

Also just to clarify, the part where Uther leaves Camelot actually takes place 3 days after the scenes before it. So there'll be another time skip next chapter for the boys to keep it chronological.

Hope you enjoy!


	8. A Safe Haven

They'd found one. They'd found a town. An actual town. Arthur wanted to cry in relief. Food, water, an actual bed, an actual roof! Then he could find out its name and figure out where exactly in Albion they were.

They had to be cautious of course. They didn't know these people, but there was also no reason for these people to know them.

Removing the string from his slingshot Arthur fixed his cloak so it was actually usable as a cloak and not just a blanket, he turned to Merlin. "No one can know who we are." Studying the boy, "We can't be brothers we look much too dissimilar. Cousins then."

"Cousins? Why do we have to be related?"

"It will raise less questions." Arthur pointed out.

On the upside, that was the first he'd heard Merlin say in days. Whatever conversation they'd had on the plains, it seemed to have satisified the boy's need for talking.

"Fine. And why we are travelling together then, cousin?" Unfortunately it didn't seem to have dampened his sarcasm.

"We were staying with your mother for this last harvest season, but heard that mine was ill so we're going to see her. Best if we stick as close to the truth as possible in case anyone asks questions."

"How is that anywhere near the truth?" Merlin asked.

"My mother is dead and yours' isn't." Merlin snapped his mouth shut. "If anyone pries you have a mother and a village you can describe. We can't have been staying at mine because mentioning castles and knights will raise questions."

Merlin nodded his head. "Okay, then. Can we go now?"

The town was a small one. But there was a tavern, and that meant an inn. Unfortunately neither boy had any money. The only things they had on them were their clothes, a branch that could be a slingshot and some flint.

"What are you lot doing here?" Came a sharp voice from behind them. Turning around from the sign announcing the tavern Arthur saw a very thin woman with stringy dark hair.

"We were just passing through. We're on our way to my mother's, but my cousin here." Arthur patted Merlin's shoulder. "Has the stomach of a pig." Merlin shot him a glare, Arthur ignored it. "And ate all the food his mother packed for us. We don't have anything to last us the trip." Arthur widened his eyes and tried to look like a helpless child. It was completely unfamiliar, having spent his whole life in court trying to act like an adult.

The woman's face softened. "Oh you poor dears. The place is my brother's," She told them pointing back at the building, "I'm sure I could get you a plate of food. Maybe even a bed if you helped us out tonight."

A bed. Arthur wasn't sure what kind of help the woman wanted but at this point he'd do anything she asked. Nodding vigorously, Arthur noticed Merlin was doing the same, they let her lead them into the inn and gratefully accepted the food she gave them. Potatoes. Actual bread, and warm. Properly prepared chicken and not the torn, not quite cooked through mess they'd been surviving off of. The two boys dug in greedily.

"Just how long ago did you finish off your rations?" The woman, Agnes she'd told them, asked them with a laugh. Merlin smiled up at her innocently. Laughing again she turned away.

XxX

Arthur spent most of the evening cleaning. Agnes served the customers, and her brother, Alan, cooked the food. Merlin helped Alan cook, but Arthur had no idea what to do, so was delegated cleaning duty. It was truly shocking how quickly everything would get dirty again. The work was neverending.

It was well into the night, when most of the people had gone on their way and only the men remained to lose themselves in their cups, that Agnes showed Merlin and Arthur to room upstairs where they could stay the night and let them take two more plates of food with them.

Arthur happily sat on the bed and finished off his dinner, lying down afterwards tired and sore. There was a difference to walking slowly through a forest and working hard. Arthur had never ached so much except after a training session, and he hadn't one in weeks. He was out of shape and the constant scrubbing and washing and wiping down was surprisingly strenuous.

He had found out where they were though, finally. The town was called Milbury and it was in Deorham, several days travel to Camelot's border. But at least it was a location, and Arthur could appreciate that.

For now he wanted desperately to sleep, and ignoring his roomate, and the fact that he hadn't spoken to Arthur since they reached the town, he drifted off to sleep.

XxX

They were woken to a ruckus. Arthur could hear voices and heavy footfalls and banging. Grumpily pulling himself up he looked over to Merlin who sat in his own respective bed looking as bleary-eyed and confused as Arthur.

The door banged open and in the doorway stood a man in chainmail and the colours of Deorham. Arthur's eyes widened, and he shot to his feet.

"Well, well, if it isn't Prince Arthur of Camelot." The knight said.

Arthur's breath picked up. He looked around frantically for a weapon, anything, but the the room was bare.

The knight stepped forward and grabbing Arthur's arm started to drag him from the room. He lashed out with his fists and tried to angle himself better to kick the knight. He heard Merlin yelling behind him, "What are you doing? Let go of him!"

In the corridor they saw Agnes and Alan. "A Prince? You surely aren't serious?" Alan asked skeptically.

"They're just boys, there must be some mistake!" Agnes called out sounding a touch more concerned.

Nevertheless the knight kept dragging him until they were down the stairs and nothing Arthur did made enough of an impression, the knight was much larger than him and his hits didn't change that.

"I said let go of him!" He heard Merlin shout and then the grip on his arm did disappear. But that feeling, that subtle power that vibrated in the air, same as it had before in the forest when they were surrounded by bandits, appeared. Arthur looked over at Merlin and saw him panting for breath. The knight was picking himself up from the floor; knocked-over chairs lying around him. Another knight was there helping him up, as yet more moved towards the boys.

"That was magic."

"Prince Arthur travelling with a sorcerer."

"He must be the sorceror the knight mentioned."

"Whose your friend, little Prince?" Came the patronising voice of one.

"They- they said they were cousins." Agnes said getting over her shock.

Some of the knights laughed. "Have you been lying little Prince? We all know you're not related to any sorcerors."

Arthur growled at the men as two came forward and grabbed him again. Looking over at Merlin he saw yet more knights going forward to restrain him.

Merlin stepped back against the wall and looked over at Arthur in desperation.

They had to escape. Again. Run away, back into the forest. But maybe they could bide their time to do so. Make an escape when they weren't cornered in an inn.

Arthur shook his head at Merlin and hoped that Merlin understood that he shouldn't fight back. The boy just stared at Arthur but he didn't do anything. He let them grab him and drag them both outside, and he didn't do anything even as they tied them to their horses.

The knights set a brutal pace, and the two boys spent most of the time jogging to keep up. It had been weeks since his injury but Arthur still couldn't endure for long. Around mid-morning his stubborness failed him and fell to his knees. Luckily the rider stopped the horse and he was only dragged a few metres.

"Get up!" He ordered.

"My leg. It's hurt." He tried to explain.

The knight dismounted and looking at Arthur turned to Merlin, who was panting and sweating and seemed glad for the brief rest.

"What's wrong with his leg?"

Merlin opened and closed his mouth a few times, still catching his breath but eventually got out, "He got stabbed. While ago."

"Put him on your horse, we can't waste time."

The knight grunted. Not bothering to untie Arthur from the horse he just hefted him as he was over the front of the saddle and remounted behind him.

At least he was off his feet. He almost pitied Merlin watching him for the rest of the day.

Arthur had hoped to have escaped when they made camp that night, but when he saw a citadel ahead, he realised they were going straight to Deorham itself. They made it into the courtyard just as the sun sunk into dusk.

Merlin collapsed into a heap the moment they stopped. The knight he was riding with dismounted and then pulled him down onto his feet. "Stand on your own can you?"

Arthur nodded brusquely and tried to shove him away, tied up as he still was it was more an averted stepping back.

The knight didn't bother untying them and just cut them from the horses before forcing Merlin back onto his feet and inside.

Being pushed side by side through the corridors Arthur couldn't hear anything asides from Merlin's rasping. Arthur depserately wanted to give the boy a drink.

When they reached a throne room they were forced onto their knees in front of a throne in which sat the King of Deorham. Arthur couldn't even remember his name.

"Prince Arthur. How wonderful of you to join us." The King greeted. Arthur wanted to snort, but instead straightened himself and looked the King in the eye as he grinned like a cat as his find.

"Your father must be missing you dearly, no? Although I wonder what Uther would say if he found out the company his son has been keeping. A sorceror so my knights tell me." He said, moving his gaze over to Merlin. Merlin looked more terrified than ever.

"He's no one." Arthur said.

"I must disagree with you there." Alined refuted still not looking away from Merlin. "I find him quite interesting."

Glancing back at Arthur Alined called to his knights, "Take the Prince to the dungeons."

Manhandled once more out of the room, Arthur could only look at Merlin. Who stared wide-eyed back at him. But what could he do to help?

XxX

It was like in his nightmares. He'd been dragged before a King and announced as a sorceror. Only it wasn't the King of Camelot but of Deorham, a Kingdom Merlin knew nothing about.

"What's your name?" The King asked him.

Merlin opened and closed his mouth. Licked his lips which still provided no moisture. "Merlin." He whispered.

"Speak louder, boy!"

He flinched. "Merlin," He said again.

"And how long have you been practicing magic, Merlin?" The King asked, his voice gentle and placating once more.

"All my life." Merlin said.

"There must have been a first time." The King pressed.

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know. I just always have."

The King stared at him curiously, like Merlin was either an interesting puzzle to solve or a prize stag to slaughter. Merlin didn't like it at all.

"You could be quite useful to me Merlin." Merlin gulped. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement?"

"What- What kind of agreement?" Merlin asked confused.

"I'd like you stay here Merlin, in my castle. You would work for me."

"I just want to go home." Merlin muttered.

"There's not much to do about that." The King deflected apathetically, "This will be your home now." He announced.

"Boy!" He yelled and gestured someone over. Merlin watched someone, few years older than himself, an errand boy of some sort, approach the King warily.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Fetch the chamberlain. He can find our new sorceror some chambers in the castle. And tell Lord Banbury: I've got a new sorceror for him to train."

XxX

They'd removed the rope and replaced it with chains. His cell had a window, one candle, and pallet with straw. sitting down on the straw Arthur tried to think about going home.

Alined would surely ransom him and no matter how angry his father got or how it hurt his pride, Arthur was sure he would pay it. Arthur was Camelot's only heir, Uther would never risk him.

Arthur tried to think about how, in a few days, a week, he'd be home. With his bed and three meals a day. With the knights and training sessions. He'd even take back his boring tutors and lessons if he could see Morgana and Gaius again.

But could only think about Merlin in that throne room.The way the King had been looking at him had sparked Arthur's memory. King Alined. His father complained about him, ranted about how he used sorcerors for his own benefit. Denegrated his intelligence, strength and willpower over meal times whever Deorham had come up in council.

No doubt Alined would want to keep Merlin. Arthur told himself that this fact shouldn't bother him. That he didn't know why it did. But he was lying to himself. It mattered because he was reminded in that throne room, same as in the bandits cage, just how young Merlin was.

How vulnerable he was.

He'd forgotten somehow in all those days and nights in the forest. Worrying about magic and food and the cold. Arguing with each other and calling each other names. He'd forgotten what it ha been like in that cage when Merlin was dying. How worried he'd been and how it had been all his fault.

It was easy in the forest. Because Merlin was just a sorceror who Arthur had to not trust. He wasn't a boy, he wasn't a child who in danger and shouldn't have been.

And now Merlin would be forced to stay here, trapped under Alined's thumb. He didn't know what would become of him. What Alined would use Merlin for. It wasn't fair that Merlin had been taken from his home and and was about to be enslaved to a King to do who knows what.

Arthur did care for Merlin. And he didn't want to care for a sorceror. But it didn't even matter, because there was nothing he could do about it. He'd probably never see Merlin again.


	9. To Be A Monster

He slept in a bed that night, only he didn't much sleep at all. He tossed and turned most of the night, terrified about what was to come. He knew there were those out there who enslaved sorcerors, but he never believed it would happen to him.

It had been a nightmare in some dark recess of his mind, but he'd always been determined to ignore the possibility.

He'd felt so helpless in that throne room, with the King looming above him and consigning his life to his service. But if one thing had come from his tossing and turning it was that Merlin had realised he wasn't helpless. He had magic. It had to be good for something no matter what Arthur or anyone else said.

He wasn't helpless and he had to get out of here. But he had to get Arthur out too, he couldn't leave him behind to languish in some dungeon. Arthur wouldn't want him using magic, and he could try when he reached him, but Arthur wasn't there and Merlin was going to use his magic to escape.

With that in mind, he figured waiting until morning was pointless. Dawn would be here soon but that would also mean people who would arrive to tell him what he was going to be doing today, and he couldn't escape then.

So with that in mind, he slipped out of bed and went to the pile of clothes he'd changed out of the night before. Back in his own clothes, he snuck out of the room.

The corridor just outside was empty so watching his feet, Merlin made his way through the corridors. Only some of the corridors had torches in them and the others were much too dark to see. Shadows draped over every part of the castle and Merlin was soon completely and utterly lost. He tried to find staircases that went down because they'd surely have the dunegons below the castle. Everything seemed so big and complex. Merlin had never seen anything of this size. He supposed it was a sight in daytime, not that he'd been able to see anything more than hazy cobblestones when he'd first arrived.

He heard footsteps in the corridors and looked around frantically for a hiding place but there was nothing except walls on either side. He tried to turn back the other way but the footsteps came around the corner before he could get away.

"Hey! What are you doing?" A voice shouted from behind him, Merlin ran faster.

He heard the footsteps pick up behind as the shouting continued. All the noise must've attracted attention because more footsteps joined the first. As he ran, Merlin heard footsteps from more than one direction but before he had the chance to rethink his direction someone barrelled out of the adjoining corridor and tackled him to the ground.

Breath knocked out of his lungs he still tried to struggle back to his feet, only now he was surrounded and there were hands and arms everywhere restraining him. His magic reacted in his panic and forced them backwards. He thought it would be enough and he could get ahead again, but almost immediately the air changed and he was picked up and flung through the air himself. Hitting the ground and stunned again, he was heaving for breaths as he shakily tried to get onto his knees so he could get back up.

"Going somewhere were you?" Came the frustrated voice of a man behind him.

He'd just got to his knees when a pressure appeared behind him and forced him back flat on the ground. Magic. One of the men was a sorceror. He'd never tried to fight another sorceror before. His own magic tried to retaliate but Merlin couldn't reign in his emotions and he had no control. He didn't even have anything to aim it at, all he could see the stones he was pressed against.

"Who is the brat?" A ruffled and angry voice spoke up.

"He's the new sorceror isn't he? Sir Dreyden's group brought him this evening with the Prince."

"_That _sorceror? Didn't realise 'e was so young."

"You're meant to be in your chambers awaiting morning training, boy." Came the first voice of before, that Merlin thought must be the sorceror.

He couldn't see anything but he had a voice to aim at. He closed his eyes and focused on his magic, wild and frantic and gave it a target. His magic leapt and raced to do his bidding, to help him.

There was a hum in a ears and then a bang and the pressure on his back disappeared.

"What was that?" Someone yelled.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine." A gruntled voice.

With the pressure gone Merlin slowly rolled onto his back, groaning.

Slow footsteps crept up on him, and he could see a man, young Merlin realised, looming over him.

"Quite some power you've got there." The man said.

Merlin tried to lean backwards but just pressed himself deeper against the floor. That was too much magic. His breath was short and his magic felt dwindled.

"Someone help him back to his chambers. I'll be along at dawn for his training." He said before moving off with a clipped step.

Merlin tried to sit up but shakily fell again, to be gripped by the knights and hauled to his feet. He didn't have much time to get his footing before they were dragging him down the corridor back the way they came.

XxX

Despite his failed first attempt, Merlin was determined to get out of this place. He wasn't going to be a slave and he wasn't going to let anyone else control his magic. But he couldn't do that right now.

When he was back in his chambers he'd gone to sleep, exhausted from the night's events.

At dawn a sharp knock on the door had woken him abruptly. Sitting up he saw the man from the night before enter, the sorceror.

"Lord Banbury will expect you on the training grounds every day at dawn. I will not be here to get you there so remember the route. If you are late or disorderly there will be repercussions." Merlin rubbed his eyes of sleep. "Are you following?" The man thundered sternly.

Merlin jumped and nodded frantically.

"Well, what are you doing still in bed then?" He bit out.

Merlin looked down and crawled out of bed. The man turned around and walked out of the room immediately and Merlin scrambled after him.

"I take it no one has explained your position here?" The man asked rhetorically, glancing at Merlin who didn't reply. "You are under the authority of King Alined now. Your magic is his to command. This means you will be trained and given orders and you will learn to follow them. The King will provide for your needs and you will show him obedience in turn, understand?"

Merlin nodded.

When they made their way outside, Merlin finally did get a chance to take in the sight of the castle. This gigantic edifice unlike anything he'd seen before. Across from the courtyard was a small field which the man lead him towards.

When they reached the grass the only man present spoke up, "Ah, my new trainee at last. What took you so long?"

Merlin didn't know what to say, but the man who'd escorted him broke the silence. "This is Lord Banbury and he will be your instructor. As his protégé I will often assist him. Anything the King, his lordship or I tell you to do, you do, understand?"

Merlin nodded. This was not good. He couldn't think anything else asides from, this was not good.

"Escorted him yourself did you, Tristan?" Lord Banbury asked.

"Made an escape attempt last night. Thought it best I assured he got here at all this morning."

"Is that so?" Lord Banbury said, voice lowering as he looked at Merlin now with distaste.

"Did show a sample of his magic however, I think you'll find his power quite intriguing."

"Powerful, hmm." The Lord hummed, indeed staring at Merlin as if he'd turned from a slug on his shoe into a rather interesting snail.

Merlin wanted to shrink away from his gaze. His magic wasn't anyone else's and he didn't like them talking about him like this, like he was newly dug up treasure.

"I find a demonstration to always be a good place to start," The Lord said, and Merlin started when he realised he was the one being addressed. "Let's see just how powerful you are." With that he gestured for another two on the side of the training field, a young man and woman, over to his side. "Defend yourself, fight back, whatever works. Only rule is that you can't run."

The Lord then said something in a language Merlin had never heard before and he felt a strange tingling on his feet, looking down he saw them suddenly firmly planted in the dirt ankle-deep, and no matter how he tried to move them they wouldn't budge. No running, then. But Merlin barely had a chance to recognise what the Lord had first done to him when he heard another voice chant in a strange language to his left.

A fireball formed on Tristan's hand and went flying at Merlin. He yelped and tried to backpedal but found his feet stuck. Trapped, he reached for his magic to stop it and watched it dissolve in midair, just in front of him.

At another set of words he looked back towards the Lord, just in time to see his narrow, shrewd eyes flash gold and see a bright pulse of light leave his palm at even greater speeds. He had just dissolved it as well when he saw the other man at the Lord's side summon the water from a barrel on the side of the field, and the woman freeze into a deadly point before sending that at him as well.

He was distracted by the sight and hadn't noticed that the Lord had sent another pulse of light at him, trying to duck he lost his balance and fell onto his backside as the magic he'd just cast shattered the ice. His hair whipped about his face and a searing heat stung his eyes as the pulse flew over him.

He didn't get a chance to breathe before the earth erupted on the other side of the field and out crawled a monstrous creature, much a scorpion only grossly misshapen. It barrelled towards him and Merlin tried to get away but he still couldn't move his legs.

He couldn't just deflect it but he wasn't even sure what it was his magic could do. He looked around desperately for inspiration and saw a rack covered with weapons, it was a training yard after all, and summoned all of them after the monster. Swords, spears, crossbows and maces all fell like hail on the creature but only some actually did anything to his outer shell. It made a horrific squealing noise as some of the swords and spears pierced its shell, but it kept coming forward.

He wasn't sure what else to send at it if a hailstorm of weapons hadn't worked- but he liked the idea of a storm. He'd made it rain before, when a dry spell had threatened their harvest, but it had taken time. He wasn't sure if he could whip up something big enough, quick enough.

Nevertheless he reached for his magic and sent it soaring into the sky. He tried to tell it that he wanted rain and thunder and lightning and hail. Anything.

The wind picked up and when he opened his eyes again he could see the creature now battling to move forwards through the winds. Just feet from his legs it was being driven backwards. Rain started to fall and then it started to harden into hail. He heard thunder roar above his head.

He felt a tug on his magic and he could feel the storm on the air around him. How everything felt so alive, so charged. He could feel the pulse and he could practically see the lightning, it was tugging at his stomach. Looking straight at the monster that was being billowed about in the cyclone Merlin had formed just for him, he let go of the magic and let the lightning strike.

With one last horrifying squeal the thing was thrown through the air and fell, unmoving near the entrance to the castle.

Merlin fell into a heap as the magic dissipated, relief and thrill both coursing through his blood.

The wind calmed, and the hail stopped, although thunder still boomed overhead at times, all that was left was a slight patter of rain as the clouds lightened a fraction, into nothing more than a mild rainstorm.

When he'd caught his breath he opened his eyes again and bringing himself to a sitting position looked around. The four sorcerors who had surrounded him before had all sought shelter by the armoury nearby and several people were racing across the courtyard and gates connected to the field, helping people up, stemming blood from where people had been knocked over or hit with hailstones. Some were racing through the gates towards the castle in terror, hands clasped tight with lived ones and children over their shoulders. It was mayhem and destruction.

And he'd caused it.

He peered through the gates and could see just outside them where market stalls had been blown and items left scattered all over the road.

His elation left him as his stomach sunk to his feet. What had he done?

"What was that!" He saw where Lord Banbury and Tristan had left the armoury and come back over towards him, cautiously this time. He wasn't sure which one of them had raised the question. The other two stayed by the armoury but couldn't seem to tear their eyes away from Merlin. Shock and astonishment clear in their expressions.

"How did you do that?" Lord Banbury asked as soon he was near enough.

"I- I- I don't know." Merlin muttered, he didn't understand it himself. He'd never known what his magic was capable of although he'd never thought of something like this.

"You never even said a word!" Tristan said, eyes as wide as everyone elses.

"Should I have?" Merlin asked after a moment's hesitation.

"I had been surprised enough when you deflected every attack we threw at you without a single spell. Not one gesture. But then you come out with magic such as this." He gestured all around him at the chaos, the shouting, the wounded.

_Wounded._ Merlin couldn't hardly breathe thinking of it.

"The King told me that you'd said you'd had magic all your life." Lord Banbury said in a musing tone. "How? I thought you must've incanted a spell in your mind but you seem as shocked as the rest of us at this display."

"I don't even know any spells." Merlin countered.

"Not possible!" Tristan refuted.

"Nothing we've seen here today is possible." Lord Banbury concluded. "How did you it, boy!" He demanded.

Merlin shook his head and tried to explain, "I don't how it works. I don't know why I can do what I do, I don't even know what it is can do!"

"Not possible, not possible at all." Lord Banbury muttered nodding.

"Why?" Merlin asked. He hesitated, he wasn't sure if he should speak, but he had to know. They knew about magic; they had to know. "What do you mean? What's not possible?"

"You. You're existence, if it is true you've had this power all your life and never learnt it. You are something... wholly unique." The Lord's expression changed, from shock and confusion into a calculating look. "And wasted. All this power, all this potential, and you don't even know what it is you are capable of." He crouched down and looked Merlin in the eye. "You are something new. Something special. Power like your's must be cultivated."

"I don't want to be special." Merlin said. "I just want to be Merlin."

"But you are special. And you need to understand that."

Merlin didn't want to. He didn't want to be unique and powerful. He didn't want to understand everyway he was different.

"You don't know why I think it is so important for you to not just understand your power but learn how to use it?" Merlin shook his head. "Merlin, you could raze this castle to the ground. You build and conquer whole kingdoms. You could make everyone fear you. If you so desired it you could own every piece of gold and silver and jewel under the earth. Everything that's worth anything would be yours."

Merlin was shaking now. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be feared, he never wanted anyone to look at him as though he were different and apart from them. That meant he was a monster and he didn't want to be a monster_. _He didn't want to destroy kingdoms or castles. _But haven't you already?_ A voice in his head asked. And looking around it was true. He had wreacked havoc on this castle and if he hadn't stopped he could've demolished it.

"And you're cowering with your feet stuck in the ground when we now both know you're perfectly capable of pulling them out." Lord Banbury finished.

Looking down at his feet, Merlin realised he was probably right. But he hadn't known that he could, or how to do it. But then, wasn't that the point?

With a shaky breath, Merlin reached for his magic and unfurling just a bit searched for the force wrapped around his feet holding them there. His pressed his magic against it and he realised, if he pressed hard enough the foreign magic crumpled under his. He pulled his feet from the ground.

"Potential like yours should never be wasted. But don't worry, I'll teach you how to use it." And that worried Merlin more than anything.

XxX

Lord Banbury had requested an audience with the King and now sat waiting in a recieving room.

"Abelard, I hear you have news to report on your training session this morning. You surely understand I am more than busy today and this had better be important." The King said as he entered, stressed and frustrated.

"Quite. You see the destructive storm today was caused by the sorceror you sent me."

The King's eyebrows shot up. "He what?!"

"Indeed." Lord Banbury nodded succinctly. "I was testing how powerful he is, at one point in his panic to defeat the monster I'd created he summoned that mighty storm over the castle. Killed it with a bolt of a lightning."

"Is that even possible?" Alined asked outraged.

"No. The boy is truly one of a kind."

"I knew as much that he had some power but that much... imagine all I could do with it." His mind wandered.

"I think the more pertinent question, is how you will control it." Lord Banbury cut in before the King got to carried away. Alined looked back over at him and gestured for him to elaborate.

"The power he holds, he doesn't realise it yet because he's untrained, but he could take your entire kingdom from you. For now his lack of knowledge makes him controllable. All that power means nothing if the boy does not know how to use it. But he will understand eventually and when he does, how will we keep him restrained?"

Alined hummed in thought for a while. "This only matters if he fights against us. If he had no reason to turn against us..."

"He has all the reason in the world. You've captured him, for all intents and purposes enslaved him." He interjected.

"Bah! He's in a prison and for now he knows it. But he needs not be treated like a prisoner and this castle need not seem like his prison. Make him comfortable here, grateful instead of resentful. Give him whatever he desires; he could be treated like royalty here. Then he will forget he's in a prison at all. He will surely fight for us and not against us." Alined theorised.

Lord Banbury nodded. "I could have a servant assigned to him, make his chambers more comfortable as a start. Spend more time in his training and as well outside, teach him other life skills. He can be grateful for all we've made possible for him to accomplish ."

"Wonderful. Also have someone show him around the castle. Make it familiar to him, he needs to feel as though it's his home." Alined ordered.

"Of course, sire." Lord Banbury bowed his head and made for the door.

Alined called after him as he left, and he turned around at the door. "And I want him working hard in training. There's a war coming, he could shorten it inummerably."

Lord Banbury bowed his head once more and left. He would do what he was asked. He could fashion the boy into a weapon and make him desire life in Deorham. But that didn't mean he had to make the boy like the King. On the contrary, the boy could be immensely useful to him, and him alone. The boy was alone and afraid, he could be understanding, take him under his wing. It will be him the boy will listen to, not King Alined or anyone else. And one day he could use the boy to topple the King, and take the kingdom himself. If he raised this Merlin right, and it was almost too easy to take complete stewardship of the boy. Lord Banbury was a patient man. It may take years to fashion Merlin into the weapon he needed. The boy could win Alined this war if the King desired, but he wouldn't win Alined the next.

XxX

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows! I'm glad you're enjoying it.

As for the guest who asked how Alined found them so fast?

It's actually because there's been a few time skips. I figured it would take several days to travel between Camelot and Deorham, so when I introuduced the parallel storyline, showing Uther and Alined's POV's and the knights there is sometimes days between the POV's.

It was actually four days since Alined found out Arthur was in Deorham until Merlin and Arthur found the inn. So the way I see it, Alined had sent out messages and offered rewards for anyone who could find them by that point. One of the tavern goers that night recognised Arthur, and informed Alined.

I've arranged each POV in chronological order, but sometimes days have passed between is all. I hope that at least kind of makes sense.


	10. Or Not To Be

Merlin's room had been full of servants that first day. He was sure they should've been elsewhere, helping to repair the damage he'd done, but they insisted they'd been assigned to his care and comfort by the King himself. Merlin couldn't imagine why the King would want to improve Merlin's comfort after he nearly destroyed his castle. And destroy he did; windows were smashed all over the castle from the hailstones and lightning. He'd had to watch out for the broken glass that littered the corridors for the rest of the day, innumerable servants cleaning it throughout.

Small fires had appeared all over the citadel, but as far as he knew only one had gotten out of control. Way down in the lower town. He heard about it when one of the servants took him out to the market that afternoon to buy him better clothes. There were people covered in ash and others carrying buckets of water rushing from the well to the outskirts of the city, where Merlin could see smoke rising above the buildings.

In the end they put it out but it had destroyed several homes in the lower town. And people had died. He saw some knights carrying a man covered in burns into the castle to get treatment, while he yelled about them to help his son instead. That he was only three and that he was the one they should be helping. A woman had broken away from the group and told the servant who'd been leading him that his son had died in the fire, but no one had the heart to tell him in his condition.

Merlin had ran to the side of the street and thrown up.

No one had been selling clothes, but the maid had taken to him a seamstress' house and told her that the King had ordered a whole wardrobe for him. The lady had been interested and asked all sorts of questions but Merlin hadn't been able to answer them. He couldn't explain the King's actions anymore than she could. But she had measured him and assured them that she would work on them as soon as everything calmed down, so Merlin had been taken back up to the castle. The maid told him not to worry, that the seamstress was a gossip and fished everyone for anything juicy to tell.

When he'd arrived back to his room he found the fireplace lit, a new rug laid down, the floors recently cleaned, new sheets on the bed, flowers and a new desk had been brought in. He didn't understand this at all.

He'd slept better that night even if only it was only out of pure exhaustion, but the next morning had meant more training. A servant had woken him before dawn and helped him get ready. He'd insisted however that he could dress himself.

That training session was much more mellow. No one had shot fireballs at him and no monsters had crawled out of the Earth. Lord Banbury had asked him questions about his magic and Merlin had replied mostly with 'I don't know'. He'd then tested how much control he had over his magic by having him do small, really specific things. But Merlin hadn't had to create any cyclones or in anyway endanger anyone so it was better than his first session.

Then he'd been allowed to finally eat breakfast and the servant, Bran he said his name was, had also given him a bath. It was incredibly awkward, Merlin thought. He finally felt clean, and the actual bath itself was a pleasant experience. But having Bran, who was only a few years older than him, bathe him, was awkward. He tried to insist he could do it himself but the two had quickly figured out that he had no idea. There were all these oils and different kinds of soaps and he had only used river water before.

Afterwards Lord Banbury came back and took Merlin on a tour of the castle. He kept pointing out things Merlin would be expected to know in the future, and little hiding spaces and things he would like about the castle. He didn't miss a single chance to point out how Merlin's stay would be permanent.

XxX

He had the afternoon to himself. Lord Banbury had left him near his chambers with explicit orders to explore the castle and continue familiarising himself with his new "home". Merlin was uninterested.

Instead he searched only in so much as to find a private and abandoned nook, a small cupboard of sorts underneath a staircase. Inside he could finally be alone.

He sank to the floor with his back to the door and thought. He thought about the day before and that morning's session and magic. He could feel his magic, in the same way he always could, a familiar warmth in his chest and a hum underneath his skin. He'd just never been... wary of it before.

He had never known what it could do. He decided he kind of preferred it that way. He didn't want to admit it, but what sort of power did things like that? It wasn't what he'd meant. And that was the thing: If he wasn't in control of it then maybe it was evil. And he wasn't in control, he didn't have even the merest grasp on what his magic was, what any magic was. He'd learnt as much that morning.

First it was levitating weapons and then it was polishing a sword with magic and then making a fire, but a controlled one. Things he'd done before. But now he could feel the way his magic would eagerly leap at every opportunity, and it scared him. It would be so easy to give in, to let his magic run rampant, but he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. And it scared him. He didn't want an integral of part of himself to scare him.

He stayed hidden away in that cupboars for a long time. By the time he was safe in bed, Merlin cried. He cried for his mother and his real home. He cried for the weeks of near starvation in the woods. He cried for his sudden enslavement and Lord Banbury and Alined's control. And he cried over all the lives he'd destroyed the day before.

He knew he couldn't stay. And if yesterday had taught him anything, it was that he the power to leave. But it also taught the cost. And until he could figure out how to control his magic in such a way that he wouldn't kill anyone leaving, he knew he was trapped.

XxX

It didn't take long for Merlin to find out about the war. The cyclone was all anyone would talk about that first day. But after that there was two topics of conversation, the cyclone and the coming war with Camelot.

Guards and the servants all gossiped about it. So after his training session on the second day (in which he'd been expected to create a whirlwind but controlled this time, he hadn't trusted his magic not to get out of control) he decided to sneak down to the dungeons.

He had barely thought about Arthur he had to admit, but the talk of Camelot had reminded him. Reminded him of the blonde Prince who'd been dragged out of the throne room, that Merlin had thought of so desperately that day. He knew nothing about knights, about anything that had happened. He had followed Arthur because he thought the other boy knew what to do. It hadn't ended well for them.

Merlin had decided that Arthur had simply been so against his magic that he had risked both their lives just for that. But that's what he needed right now. Everyone else was so desperate to get their hands on his magic. Arthur just wanted Merlin without magic, normal. It was Arthur he needed to speak to.

XxX

Arthur hadn't expected to see Merlin again, so it was surprise when the boy appeared at the bars to his cell. He was shaking and collapsed with his back to the wall next to Arthur's cell door. Merlin held his knees to his chest and seemed to fold in on himself.

"They want to use me." He told Arthur.

And Arthur recognised that perhaps this was like in that field. Where Merlin had to talk to someone so desperately and Arthur was the only one there.

His heart sunk.

"How so?"

"They want me to fight."

Arthur flinched.

"Well, we both know you can."

Merlin flinched.

"I never wanted to be this. I didn't mean to do... what I did."

Neither said anything after that. Not for a while. Arthur didn't know there was anything to say to that.

Eventually he broke the silence. "You didn't want to be what?"

"A monster." Merlin whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"That's what sorcerors are aren't they? Monsters."

"I... I..." Arthur wanted to say something but couldn't seem to get the words out, so he changed his tack. "You didn't mean to be a sorceror?"

Merlin didn't reply for a while. "I never explained about my magic. But far as everyone keeps telling me... I'm singular. No one else like me."

"What that supposed to mean?"

"I didn't know that what I could do was magic. I just used to think these sorts of things happened sometimes. My mother says I've been using magic since birth. It's not supposed to be possible."

"It isn't possible." Arthur refuted, his eyes wide and dreading.

"That's why they like me. Because I'm not possible. Apparently I can do things the others can't."

"Like what?" Arthur asked out of a terrified sort of curiosity.

"I'm not sure." Merlin said. "I've never known what I'm capable of. My mother was always there to tell me not to use it. But- but now... they wanted to know what I was capable of, and now they think they've found out. I nearly destroyed the whole city my first day here. I didn't even mean to, they were testing me and I got scared and then I made this storm... I didn't even realise I'd made it so big, everything got out of control."

Arthur remembered that storm. The wind and rain that had come through the window. The thunder that had roared out of nowhere. Lightning had struck just outside his cell and it had been the loudest thing he'd ever heard. He hadn't seen the true damage of what was caused, but it was all the guards would talk about. How a fire had spread through the lower town. How so many died. All that had been this tiny boy in front of him?

Arthur shuffled towards the bars but stopped when Merlin turned to stare at him through them, one hand reaching the grip at the bars, knuckles turning white.

"I never meant to do it I swear! It just got so out of control... I'd only made it rain once before. We had a drought. I usually just grew flowers or made pictures or played jokes on Old Man Simmons and he did deserve it. I never wanted to be..."He trailed off, before locking eyes with Arthur. "Am I a monster?" Merlin whispered, voice full of desperation.

Arthur stared at him, but couldn't seem to get his tongue to work. He wasn't sure what he would even say. He couldn't deny it. He'd be betraying his father but... but... How could this boy in front of him, be a monster? So tiny and yet so powerful, it didn't make sense.

"You said my magic was like a infection. A disease, am I- am I sick? Please, Arthur." He begged.

Arthur's eyes widened even further. There were tears in Merlin's eyes, shining at him and Arthur couldn't look away.

"Am I monster, since I was born? How is that fair? How is it fair that I was a monster my whole life and I never got a choice?" The tears were spilling from his eyes and onto his cheeks now and Arthur couldn't think to do anything, he was frozen in terror.

Merlin had now turned entirely to face Arthur, both hands gripping the bars like vices. Looking for what? Absolution? Arthur couldn't give it.

_Sorcerors know only evil. They wreak destruction where ever they go. They seek to destroy all that is good. They are abhorrent, unnatural, vile and should be wiped from the Earth._

His father's words rang in his head. And all that he could think in reply was: _How is that fair? How is that fair? How is that fair?_

How could he have been born with magic? If magic made you evil... How could Merlin have been evil since he was a baby? _How is that fair? _

But he'd killed people. But he hadn't even meant to. It was his magic that had done it. But didn't that prove that magic was evil.

He heard a choked sob and saw Merlin let go of the bars and begin to turn away. His hand shot out like a viper and snatched Merlin's wrist before he could pull away.

Staring at each other from either side of the bars, paralysed and afraid, Arthur finally gave Merlin an answer. "I don't know what your magic makes you. But I don't think you're a monster." Merlin stared at him in rapt attention. "Maybe... maybe if you don't want to be a monster... if you can't choose whether not to have magic you can still choose what you do with it."

Maybe. Arthur hoped. He really didn't want Merlin to be evil. But looking at him, how could evil look like that? Pale and shaking, short of breath, teary-eyed and stupidly happy. Happy not because Arthur had even said anything nice about him, but just because because he's said he _might not_ be a monster. Arthur didn't think he was looking at evil. He thought he was looking at the saddest thing in the world.

He hadn't quite made the decision when he said it, but he made one now. He didn't know how magic worked, but Merlin didn't want to become a monster. And Arthur didn't want that either. So Arthur made a promise right then, gripping his hand through the bars of a cell in the dungeons of Deorham, that he would protect Merlin. Whether that was from bandits or Kings or his own damn magic or the hatred of the world. No one was going to turn Merlin into a monster. Arthur would make sure of that.

XxX

A/N: Happy days, Arthur will now be less of a prat! I was excited to get to this point where unwilling teamwork turned into budding friendship and now protectiveness. Hope you enjoyed.

These last two chapters were originally going to be called To Destroy... And To Make Amends, but I preferred To Be a Monster... Or Not To Be. Seemed more relevant to me.


	11. Down In The Dungeons

"Your father's coming to Deorham." Merlin told him.

It was the second time Merlin had snuck down to the dungeons. The two boys hadn't said much after the first time, shocked and confused, Merlin had left soon after for them to spend their time on their own.

But when Merlin had come the second time he'd sat down facing Arthur on the other side of the bars and immediately left Arthur shocked.

"What? Why? How do you know?" Arthur questioned him, sitting down opposite.

"Everyone's talking about it. Apparently some of your knights were in Deorham and they shouldn't have been. Alined declared war and your father has an army marching here as we speak."

Camelot knights in Deorham? His father must have sent them after him, he wouldn't have risked this for anything else. But then that meant his father was going to war because of him. And he was going to be stuck in the middle of it, in the enemy's dungeons. War wasn't good for anyone, his people would suffer for it. This was not good at all.

"The knights-" He latched onto the one part that could be good. "The knights would have been brought here, they're probably in the dungeons." Arthur pointed out.

"Do you want me to see if I can find them?" Merlin offered.

Arthur nodded his head. Perhaps if he could find knights and they could get out of here, he could finally get home. He'd just have to make sure no one found out about Merlin's magic. He wasn't going to let him be executed, but he definitely wasn't leaving him in Alined's hands.

XxX

Merlin wasn't supposed to be in the dungeons, and of all the places to sneak around the castle it wasn't the smartest; guard-wise. But Merlin had a job to do, for Arthur.

It wasn't anything he could say in words, what had happened the day before. But it was enough for him to say, if Arthur Pendragon, the very son a notorious magic hating King, who knew well enough the evils of magic, didn't think Merlin was evil, then that was a hope that Merlin was not letting go of. And at this point he'd do anything for Arthur. So deliberately finding a group of Camelot soldiers, a suicidal notion at any other time in his life, was a an action he was willing to do. Because they were from Arthur's home, and it could be as simple as that. Merlin was determined to leave it to be as simple as that.

Alined's dungeons were full. Rows of cells were full of occupants and Merlin hadn't the faintest idea which could be knights. He certainly didn't want to arouse attention by asking. So he crept along the halls, peeking into cells, aware that he could have already passed the knights in a previous one. It wasn't like they would be identifiable. Chances were their swords and armour had been taken from them.

At the footsteps of a guard Merlin ducked around a corner and hunkered down in the shadows. Unnoticed by the guard that he saw dragging an unfortunate looking man, beaten by the looks of it and with dried red on his shirt that Merlin wasn't naive enough to attritube to anything except blood. The guard chucked him in a cell and turned around to head back out, Merlin curled into himself in the shadow as the guard turned his way. And as the guard continued on oblivious, Merlin thanked for the first time the sparse torches in the dungeon and the oppressive shadows they produced.

Ducking his head back out the corner to ensure no one was there, he crept to the cell door the man had been thrown through. He knelt by the bars and peered into the neverending darkness of the cell.

"Hello." He whispered. "Are you alright?"

He breathed a sigh of relief when he got an answer. "Who is that?" A hoarse voice asked him.

"My name's Merlin. I saw you in the corridor, you didn't look so good."

He heard a surprisingly cheery for the situation snort. "Oh I'm fine. My friend though, well you're probably right about him. I'm almost glad that they never replaced the torch when it ran out." After a pause he continued, "How bad is he?"

"I'm not sure. There was a lot of blood, but some of it looked old." He answered.

He almost startled backwards when a face appeared at the cell door, a grown man, pale and haggard but indeed a lot better than his friend. "Bit young to be roaming around dungeons aren't you." The man remarked.

"I'm looking for someone."

"And who might that someone be?" The man inquired innocently, as though just looking for something nice to pass the time.

Merlin wasn't sure he should say, but the man was a prisoner he probably wasn't going to tell anyone.

"Knights of Camelot. Some got captured a little while ago. They might still be here." At that he took note that they might not be here at all. They were enemies trespassing, Alined might have had them killed.

The man eyed him even more suspiciously however, "What is it then? Boyhood curiosity? Touch of adventure? A dare from a friend that sent you down here? Or perhaps the orders of a guard?" His voice becoming more and more scrutinous as he went on.

Merlin shook his head. "You know something?" He figured the man must what with how defensive he was quickly becoming.

"Depends on why you're asking." The man insisted.

That Merlin was definitely sure he shouldn't say. But if this man knew where the Camelot knights were...

"Prince Arthur sent me." He whispered, as though not quite daring the words to pass his lips.

"You lie."

"I don't!"

"Prince Arthur can't be down here."

"Alined captured him too not three days ago!" Merlin told him.

The man's eyes which had become progressively more scared now widened in horror. "Prince Arthur is in these dungeons?' He hissed urgently through the bars.

"Yeah. He wanted me to see if the Camelot knights were still here. You promised if you knew why I was looking you'd tell me what you know." Merlin reminded him sternly, or as sternly as someone of 11 summers can manage.

"Name's Sir Pellinore." The man said brusquely brushing aside the insistence to ruminate on the problem, while he looked into the darkness instead of at Merlin. "But Prince Arthur cannot stay the hostage of a hostile King. Alined could plan who knows what for him."

"You're a knight of Camelot?" Merlin asked to be sure.

The possible-knight's eyes returned to his gaze a moment - "Indeed." - before flicking away again.

Merlin took in a breath, and then smiled. He'd done it.

"Merlin wasn't it?" The knight asked looking back at him.

Merlin nodded.

"You said the Prince sent you? So you're not with Deorham?"

"They took me too." He told the knight.

The man's brows furrowed but whatever he wanted to ask he must have deemed inconsequetial as he shook his head to ask instead, "Then you'll help the Prince? Because, we need to get him and us out of here. But I'll need your help for that."

Merlin nodded. Of course he'd help Arthur.

"Good lad. You can tell Arthur you found us, and that he's not alone. He'll just have to be patient until we figure something out."

Merlin nodded and went to stand but was jerked to a stop as a hand whipped out of the bars and latched onto his. "You keep your head down alright. You were never here. Draw attention and you'll end up in one of these cells and we're all doomed."

Merlin stared solemnly back at the man, and nodded once more. He knew well enough he was not supposed to be here and there'd be consequences if he was found. He was sure all the unfounded good will he was recieving would disappear in an instant if Alined found out, and he wasn't that stupid.

So as Sir Pellinore released him, Merlin slipped back into the corridors and made his way towards a more brightly lit section of the dungeons where Arthur was. Sitting down outside his door he saw Arthur rush towards him eagerly.

"You found them?" He asked before he even sat opposite Merlin.

"Yep." He nodded his head. He decided not to mention that he'd only talked to one and the only other he'd seen had been injured well... badly.

"He told me to tell you that you weren't alone and would have to be patient until we figured something out."

Arthur growled. "I am not wasting away here while all of you deal with the situation. I can help."

"I know." Merlin insisted but then he paused. "Don't they?"

Arthur snorted. He shook his head. "It's their job to protect me. They won't let me help with my own safety because that's too dangerous."

"Well what can we do? I can't exactly break all of you out. You're their most important prisoner."

Arthur stared at him carefully but he said, "Yes, you can."

It took Merlin a moment to understand.

"You can't be serious." His breath quickened.

"I am. It's the only way out. It's the only you'll be a match for them."

"I can't. The knights would have to see me and they're from Camelot." He tried to reason. And it was a fair reason he thought. He already had the Prince of Camelot knowing about his magic, no need to tempt fate and let more people know.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I swear." Arthur told him, not once looking away. "If we do this right, they don't even have to notice."

Merlin looked at Arthur but couldn't help but notice the tempting power constantly there under his skin, in the back of his mind. "You can't ask me to do that. You said I didn't have to be a monster anymore." He said fervently.

"You won't be. I'll never let you." Arthur told him as stubbornly determined as the rest of the time. "We plan this properly, it'll only need to be small things. Stealing keys, like you did those traveler's food. Find a way to send someone to sleep, that way you won't have to fight, or hurt, anyone." Merlin stared at him uncertainly. "It's the only way we'll get out here, Merlin."

"Maybe. Can't we try without magic first."

"We fail we may never get a second chance." Arthur pointed out.

Merlin's eyes flickered back to Arthur's. "Alright. Just give me some time." He whispered, before he took off running out of the dungeons.

XxX

A/N: I know it's been awhile and there isn't too much in this chapter, but I had to get this stuff done to move on to what happens next. I have written most of the next chapter so, it won't be as long until next time I promise! And boy, do things happen then...


	12. A Dash For Freedom

The next morning, training was postponed. Merlin was down at the grounds at the break of dawn as required, however Lord Banbury wasn't there. Alone so early in the chilly morning, Merlin had simply stood there shivering. Eventually though, Tristan turned up and informed him that Lord Banbury had been with the King and Merlin was expected in the dining hall to break fast with them.

This had not been good news. Merlin's stomach was already twisted in knots at the prospect of training, and having to do magic at Lord Banbury's command. The thought of breakfasting with him and the King, and the wondering of why he was expected there at all, only made his stomach feel worse. He dearly hoped he wasn't expected to show much of an appetite.

As he made his way to his chambers, and as Bran prepared him for breakfast with the King, Merlin tried to think of something else, anything else to occupy his mind. Unfortunately all he could think of was Arthur's suggestion the day before. He knew they had to escape, of course, but the thought of using magic, especially in such a way... What if he hurt someone? What if he panicked and lost control... again? He couldn't do that. He didn't want to do that. He wasn't going to. He just had to bide his time until he could discover another way.

When he arrived in the dining hall, King Alined and Lord Banbury were already dug into their food and deep in discussion.

"Ah Merlin, sit down, sit down." The King said falsely cheerful, and even Merlin could tell the man was putting on an act, when he saw him arrive. But as he was told, Merlin sat across from Lord Banbury and on Alined's left as a servant came and presented him a plate.

"No doubt you wonder why you were asked here this morning?" Alined continued as soon as Merlin was settled. Merlin could only manage to nod.

"Yesterday an army of Camelot made post at Gedref, from which Uther will march into Deorham. It is my plan to send out forces tomorrow and meet him before he can reach the capital. I want you there among the forces, with Lord Banbury."

Merlin's eyes widened. His breath quickened. "I- I don't understand... how could I fight in a battle?"

"Don't play games with me." Alined told him sternly. "I have heard plenty from Lord Banbury about what you're capable of." His voice turned more sickly sweet. "You will be my secret weapon. Uther will be caught by surprise."

This couldn't happen. He wasn't a weapon. How could he be expected to turn the tide of a battle? This was wrong. He could hardly think of anything else.

Lord Banbury interjected at that time, "We will train all day after this. Last chance to get you prepared. You have the power, you merely need the knowledge. It isn't even so much about control, you simply need to wreak havoc on their armies which shall send them into disarray. Our forces can do the rest."

_Wreack havoc__?_ Help win a battle. Against Arthur's own father. And yes Merlin didn't have any particular liking for Uther Pendragon, but he didn't want Arthur's father dead. He couldn't do that to him. And yet more than that, he couldn't be the cause of death of any man. Not again, he wouldn't.

He had to stop this, somehow... He wanted to say he wasn't ready, but Lord Banbury had already said all he needed was raw power and he had plenty of that. He had find a way out. A way out of Deorham. Today.

XxX

Lord Banbury had told the truth about training all day. Only this time they weren't at the training grounds. He took Merlin out into the woods where less damage would be made.

He had Merlin start fires. Create another storm. Call down lightning. He had Merlin whip the wind into a frenzied tornado. He had him cause an earthquake even at the end of it all. At the end of the day that would be what Merlin was required to do. Turn nature against Camelot so they could not fight.

But what was worse was how easy it all was. The power under his skin wanted out. His magic wanted to break free from that spot in his chest and do something. It wanted to react with the elements and wrest control. It was too easy for him to cause all this damage. And Lord Banbury only got happier and happier as he watched. His face turning into a mixture of excitement and exhilaration.

It terrified Merlin, what it meant for his magic to be in the control of this man. Because that's what it was. Merlin wasn't in control of it. And he was so afraid that he didn't want to be. But Lord Banbury decided what to do with it. And his magic was eager to comply with his wishes. Merlin felt like an empty vessel. The mere weapon King Alined wanted. More than anything, that thought, drove him to desperation.

XxX

Arthur heard feet slap against the stones of the dungeon floor, heading towards his cell. He crawled forward in time to see Merlin come sliding to a stop, panting, at the bars, sinking to his knees.

"We need to leave." He gasped out in between heaving breaths. "Now."

"What?" Arthur asked, barely able to hear the other boy. "What's happened?"

"Your father's army's here. Or near enough." Arthur's heart leaped at the thought. "King Alined's sending out an army tomorrow to meet them. And he wants me to go with them. He said I'm his 'secret weapon'." His heart plunged into icy depths after his stomach. _Secret weapon. Merlin. _Rage heated the ice that had filled his veins at the news. No one was going to use Merlin that way. He wasn't going to let it.

"That is not happening." Arthur said determined.

Merlin nodded frantically. "We have to get out. Tonight. Right now." Merlin told him, his voice rising.

"Shh. You'll draw the guards. How will we escape then?" Arthur reprimanded him. Obedient, Merlin went silent and even took a few deep breaths to slow his breathing.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"How are we getting out?" Arthur asked. "You didn't want to use magic, remember?"

Merlin bit his lip. "Using a little now is better than anything they'll make me do tomorrow. We don't have time to make another plan."

Arthur nodded as a determined expression took over Merlin's face. The boy reached out a hand and laying it on the lock on the cell door, he closed his eyes. Within moments Arthur heard the distinctive click of a released lock, and rushing to his feet, he pushed open the door enthusiastically. Leaving the tiny cell for the first time in days... he'd never felt so free in a dungeon hallway.

"Which way are the knights?" He focused back on the situation. Before they left entirely they had to get everyone.

"This way." Merlin whispered back, and headed off down the gloomy hallways.

When they reached the cell, Arthur rushed forward. "Prince Arthur!" Sir Owain cried out.

"You're safe." Sir Leon breathed out in relief, his head lolling as he looked up.

"Merlin." Sir Pellinore nodded at the boy.

Arthur couldn't help grinning. After all this time, it felt so good to see some familiar faces. He saw Merlin's hand creep forward towards the lock and he reached out and pushed it away. He shook his head at Merlin.

"We'll just go find some keys." Arthur told them, before dragging Merlin away.

"What did you think you were about to do?" Arthur hissed at Merlin.

Merlin just looked at him innocently but didn't respond.

"With the lock." He clarified. "You were about to use magic in front of knights of Camelot."

"I already used it in front of the Prince of Camelot." Merlin pointed out.

"You know that's different." Arthur whispered back, dragging Merlin to a halt.

Merlin looked away but muttered, "I know."

After scrutinising the younger boy's face for a moment, the two continued down the hallway, although Arthur kept an eye on Merlin.

As they crept near the entrance they saw around the corner a guard. They looked at each other a moment, Merlin looking pale and shaky. Neverthless the boy took a deep breath and held out his hand. Arthur watched Merlin's eyes flash gold and stamped down the instinct to recoil. He told himself firmly that he was not in any way unnerved. They watched the keys float from the guard's belt over to Merlin's hands before they both turned around and fled back into the dungeons.

When they reached the cell Merlin fumbled with the keys and was too shaky to properly fit it in the lock. However, after an uncomfortably long moment he unlocked the cell.

Pellinore was the only one uninjured. Owain and Leon both struggled to their feet. Leon had no choice but to lean on Pellinore to walk. Arthur realised they weren't likely to be able to run any time soon, which meant they had better hope they didn't get seen. With that, Arthur and Merlin lead the way out of the dungeons, the knights trailing behind. Owain at least tried to keep up with Arthur, as some semblance of protection. He realised however that if they did get in trouble, Merlin was likely the only one who'd be able to save them. Which didn't reassure him much considering the boy's current reticence.

Luck it seemed was in their favour as they passed the gauntlet unseen. Owain snuck up behind the guard at the entrance to knock him unconscious before stealing his sword. At which point they sneaked through the corridors, Merlin leading the way to get outside. The courtyard wasn't yet empty, not yet far enough beyond the evening, and there were still too many guards at the main gate. Merlin mentioned that he knew another way out. So they found themselves at a less traveled post gate with two guards standing watch.

"We'll never get past undetected." Pellinore said.

"We'll have to rush them." Owain replied. "I'll take the one on the left and you take the right." He gestured to Pellinore. Both knights agreed before looking towards the boys.

"You three stay here." Pellinore ordered them as he set Leon down.

"No way." Arthur began.

"No, you listen!" Owain hissed. "We are going to get you back to your father and we not jeopardising that for the sake of your pride!"

"Owain, please." Leon spoke up. "He's a boy, a future King, it's not wrong for him to want to prove himself." Owain was about to reply, but Leon continued, "However in this case Prince Arthur, Owain's right. This isn't practice or a hunting trip, and we don't have time to argue over this. It likely won't take long for them to realise the dungeon entrance's guard is unconscious."

Arthur swallowed back his retorts. "Fine."

With that, Owain and Pellinore slipped past them and with one last nod at each other, charged the gate. While Owain struck at his guard with the sword, Pellinore dodged the guard on the right and attempted to tackle him. With the element of surprise Pellinore was able to knock the guard's sword out of his hand and leverage him into a headlock position. Twisting around he managed to cut off the man's windpipe. Owain however was disadvantaged by his wounds and couldn't keep up with the pace or weight of the guard's blows.

"Get them out of here!" He called to Pellinore as he dodged a lethal strike.

At the call, Pellinore rushed back to the group, and hauling Leon back to his feet, urged Arthur and Merlin to run. They didn't need much incentive. Merlin had been looking progressively more terrified as the escape continued, and Arthur had been looking around sire that the commotion would draw attention. They were both glad to finally dash for freedom and leave the citadel behind.

However as they reached the gate, they heard a call behind them, the guard that was still fighting Owain began calling out in alarm. Merlin froze beside Arthur at the sound.

"Don't stop!" Arthur yelled at him as he wrenched him forward by the sleeve. Jerked out of his terror the two boys begun to stumble madly through the woods beyond.

Arthur could hear the uneven crashing and heavy breathing of the knights following them. For a long while that and the sound of the wind was all he could hear. Time seemed to slow in a surreal way, as they ran through the darkness, as if time wasn't moving at all. As if they weren't making any progress. He tried to shake the bizarre thought from his mind but the lack of progress became all too real when he heard hoofbeats behind him.

He turned to see the others who'd frozen in their tracks like startled deer. Merlin's eyes shone too brightly in the night and Owain and Leon seemed to droop even more from the punishing pace on their already injured bodies. They tried to continue running however stood no chance of outrunning them. Or at least the knights didn't.

When the Deorham knights caught up, Owain yelled out for Arthur to run. So he did. Last he saw Pellinore and Leon had lagged behind and gotten surrounded by a ring of Deorham knights, and Owain stood his ground, sword held high. He knew they wanted to bide him time to escape, and he hated that he ran anyway. But it wasn't just him. Merlin was there, and clinging to him, and they both had to get away. So they ran, fists gripping each others sleeves so as not to lose each other in the dark.

It didn't matter in the end. As they made enough noise to be found, and the knights had the advantage of speed. When they were finally surrounded, Arthur looked over at Merlin. He couldn't bare to see the terror on his face. He wished that Merlin would use his magic to help them then, only perhaps he hadn't found a sleeping spell as Arthur had suggested, or else was too scared of his own magic or of the knights to dare. Either way the knights leapt from their horses and roughly tied the boys up before hauling them over the horses' backs. He could hear Merlin crying as they were taken back to Deorham.

His crying intensified when they passed Owain's body.

"Think we should go after the last two?" The knight holding Arthur steady on his horse asked.

"Nah. They won't make in the woods in their shape. Even if they do we'll get them on the field tomorrow. It's these two we need to get back." Another piped up, one that seemed in charge.

That at least gave Arthur something to hope for. Leon and Pellinore had gotten away. At least he hadn't left them to their deaths as he had Owain. That is if they weren't killed in the woods as the knights had suggested. The hollow feeling in his gut from the thought deepened with each sob that came muffled from Merlin's throat.


	13. Preparing For Battle

Neither Arthur nor Merlin slept that night. It was well past the evening when the boys were dragged back to the citadel, however the castle was brimming with activity. There were people rushing to and fro to finish the preparation for the army to march out in the morning. And on top of all of that the knights had to frantically search the forest for the escapees. As such when Arthur and Merlin were brought before the King and thrown to his feet, King Alined was not in a good mood.

"What is this about?" He hissed at no one in particular, anger barely restrained.

There was no response.

"I take you in boy. As a guest in my castle." He bites out through gritted teeth at Merlin, whose shaking intensified along with the muffled sobbing which had not stopped all the way from the forest. Arthur had to grit his own teeth at the sight so as not to launch himself at the King in fury.

"And this how you repay me! By helping my prisoners escape!" He thunders.

Merlin flinches.

"He is no guest of yours." Arthur speaks up for Merlin who it is clear to anyone's eyes is incapable of responding, "He is as much your prisoner as I am!"

"I understand how you've come to such a grave misunderstanding." The King lowers his voice to a more silky and yet condescending tone. "It is true he was brought here as a prisoner. However, _unlike _you, he has been risen from such status." He turned towards Merlin, however as the boy had yet to look up from the floor Arthur doubted he noticed. "You would have been given everything. You would never go hungry or cold. You would have the finest clothes and eat of the finest foods, no matter what famine or drought or hardship the people encounter. You would have been treated like royalty here if only you stopped fighting. And because I am such a gracious King I will allow you to stay and overlook tonight's... _misdemeanour_." A choked, and more audible, sob escaped Merlin's throat. "After the battle tomorrow Arthur Pendragon will have been dealt with and no longer be of your concern. At which time you will return here and you will either accept my offer or spend the rest of your life in my dungeons." He was practically spitting by the end. "And if you have even the semblance of a mind within that head of yours you will realise what an offer it is I'm making. The life of a sort that a peasant boy like you could never attain."

Merlin finally looked up and blinking tears from his eyes finally responding in a shaky voice with a shaking head, "No. I don't want your silk and food if it means being your puppet. I'd rather starve then sell my magic to you."

The King growled. "I own your magic either way boy. But have it your way. Spend the rest of your life in chains. Lord Banbury! Prepare the boy for battle." With a throwaway glance at Arthur he added, "And take Uther's spawn with you. I trust you to keep them contained for the trip."

Arthur glared at King Alined as men came and hauled them to their feet and out of the hall.

XxX

The Deorham army set out from the citadel at dawn. Arthur and Merlin were placed, tied up, in one of the carts. Arthur spent hours alternating between staring at the path in front of them, and at Merlin. Ahead of them, lay a battlefield. He wasn't sure how far ahead, but it was there, and they were slowly approaching their fate. Any number of things could go wrong. And any number of things could go right.

And when he stared at Merlin, he couldn't help but notice how pale he was. The boy was naturally pale, although at this point Arthur couldn't be sure if that wasn't just because he was perpetually terrfied. With everything that happened recently it was probably a fair state of mind to be in. However, Merlin wasn't crying anymore. He'd stopped sometime around when they'd been loaded into the cart and taken through the gates. The boy just stared blankly at his feet, at his hands, at the wooden planks beneath him. Arthur found himself even more concerned than when the boy had been crying. He looked... resigned to his fate. They were being trundled off to a battlefield where Merlin would be used a weapon and then taken back to be kept a prisoner the rest of his life. Arthur could understand the hopelessness that must've been filling the young boy's heart; but he couldn't bear to see it.

He looked back at the horizon. He was going towards his father. A month had passed since he'd been in Camelot and seen his father. But despite the fact that it looked like he was nearing the end of his journey, presuming all went well the next day, Arthur couldn't bring himself to be happy. All because of a sorceror. An endearing damn sorceror. Even if he finally got back home, he knew he couldn't just leave Merlin to be in King Alined's hands. He couldn't leave the poor boy behind. It was as simple as that he figured. Either they were both escaping or neither of them.

XxX

Merlin thought about the inn they'd found just a few days ago. Had it really only been a few? They'd been so happy to find civilization and other people; And food; Mostly food. He thought back and remembered just how desperate they'd been to finally be rid of the forest. But now, he wished he was still in that forest. He'd be free at least. He shouldn't have disparaged it so, he was better off there truly. Anywhere but here.

Damn his magic! Why did he have to have it if it was only going to lead him to trouble? If he hadn't had any magic he never would've been kidnapped, he never would have trudged miserably through a forest for weeks in fear and hunger so desperate to leave that he walked right into the arms of a tyrant. He never would have found himself enslaved to a King. He would still have been in Ealdor... with his mother.

Oh his mother, what must she be thinking? She must be so worried over what had become of him. He didn't think the dark fears her imagination would run away with would be any worse than the truth. He wondered if it would be worse for her to know what had become of him, to know for certain that he was now a prisoner, a chained sorceror, that he'd become a monster; or if it was better to live never knowing. What would she think of him if she saw him now? So much had happened in so few weeks, what if she was horrified at all he'd done? She'd always told him never to use his magic for harm. He'd failed her. Maybe it was for the best that she would never know, and years from now she'd comfort herself knowing that by now he was probably dead and at least then he was not suffering. She need not know he'd be in Alined's dungeon or on his battlefield. It would hurt her too much surely.

But if she thought him dead? He was all she had, he didn't want to imagine her despair. He wished more than anything that he could be with her again. To comfort her fears and she could comfort his. She was always so good at that... he missed her. But he didn't want to see her here; For her to see this. He just wanted to go back to Ealdor. He didn't want magic, this power that King's craved. He just wanted his mother.

XxX

They arrived at dusk. The battlefield laying itself out before them under the last rays of a setting sun.

Arthur and Merlin weren't left in the cart for long. As everyone busily pitched tents and lit fires, one tent was designated as their new prison. Dragged and thrown to the dirt inside, they were left alone. Arthur could see the shadows of guards just oustide the tent flap. They weren't leaving anytime soon.

Arthur looked over at Merlin who'd curled himself up, knees to his chest, and head bowed. As though if he made himself small enough, maybe no one would notice him, maybe no one would hurt him.

"Are you... alright?" Stupid, awkward question. Arthur knew the other boy wasn't alright, but what else could he ask? Merlin hadn't spoken a word since that morning in the throne room.

Merlin didn't raise his head, his eyes flicking up for barely a moment. "I can't stand the waiting. I just want it all to have happened already." The boy mumbled.

Arthur drew himself up and straightened his shoulders as he did when he felt awkward. He wasn't sure he understood but maybe... maybe spending a day moving towards an uncertain but inevitable future without the end ever seeming to arrive is more intolerable than can be borne. Only... "It's not inevitable. Everything Alined said this morning, it doesn't have to come true. It won't come true." He tried to reassure Merlin.

"You can't stop him." And it hurt, because Merlin was stating it as a mere fact and it couldn't be a fact that Arthur couldn't help him.

"Why can't you?"

He meant it as an honest question, but Merlin rocketed up all the way to his feet, fear replacing hopelessness in his eyes once more. Arthur slowly stood to his feet as well.

"Can't what?" He said, voice finally above a mumble. "Can't stop him? Can't get out? How? Can't what exactly? Attack them? Kill people? Kill Alined?" His voice was quietening down again to a barely discernable hush. "How do I stop it then? Because I can, but I don't... I don't- I'm not- It isn't even mine anymore. What can I do with it but hurt people?"

And Merlin was staring at him in desperate earnest as he had that day in the dungeons. Nothing more than a child with more magic and power than he knows what to do with and too much at stake to use it. Terrified of himself. Arthur couldn't help but think_ '__I'm not cut out for this'._ He'd rather have a sword in hand. Figuring out someway to escape through skill and courage. At least he'd trained for that. He had no idea to comfort people. Let alone scared children. Let alone sorcerors. Definitely he didn't know anything about comforting someone about having magic. What does one even do in this situation? Well he could stand there nice and straight as if he knew what the hell they should do. Only problem there, is that he didn't know what the hell they should do.

"I'd never ask you to kill anyone. That's not what I meant." Was all he could think up.

"Then what are you asking of me?"

Arthur was silent for a long moment. Long enough that Merlin had lowered his head from staring piercingly at Arthur to looking depreciating at the ground as he was about to sink back down. He was silent until he realised, this was actually the one question he knew the answer to.

"Nothing." The one word picked the boy's head up as he looked at Arthur in confusion. "I'm not asking you to do anything. I don't want to force you to become something that you don't want to be. I'm not Alined. And I'm not those kidnappers. I don't want to use you for anything. I just... the magic's yours. You shouldn't use it for Alined. You should be able to use it for you."

Merlin shook his head. "It's not my magic anymore. It's his now."

"Why do you say that?"

"It does whatever Lord Banbury wants it to. It obeys him not me." And there's was something self-deprecating in Merlin's tone that Arthur could not stand.

He may not understand magic, but he did understand willpower.

He stepped toward the boy until he was close enough to touch.

"What do _you_ want?" He asks Merlin straightly.

"My mother. My home." Merlin answers without hesitation.

"How do you want to get there?"

"Without hurting anyone." He hesitates. "I- I want her... not to be ashamed of me." He looks up at Arthur.

"Then that's what we'll do. That's what your magic's going to do. It's going to do what you want you want it to do. Only if you can make it._ Sometimes the winner of a duel isn't the one with the highest skill, or the most finely crafted weapon. Sometimes it's the opponent with the strongest will._" He quoted his swordplay teacher.

Merlin was wary. But this close, Arthur thought he saw something like hope glitter in the boy's eyes.

And Arthur, he hoped to the ends of the Earth, for Merlin's sake; that he was right.

XxX

Leon and Pellinore arrived at Camelot's camp at dusk. The trek had been long due to having to stop and constantly go out of their way to avoid Alined's forces, while at the same time following them; having no idea where they were, following Alined's army had been the only way they would know which direction their army lay. Their injuries and weariness slowing them down they'd had to be more cautious than ever not to be caught.

However when they finally arrived they let out cries of relief, shared by the lookouts who first recognised them. There was joy at seeing two of their own had escaped back to safety. And a respectful solemnity at the one who had not.

Despite their injuries, they were brought before the King immediately. Standing in a tent with King Uther and his finest knights, Leon was near ready to collapse but stood as straight as he could, which was not very straight at all, as his King asked not for a report but first and foremost if he had any information on the Prince.

"We found Arthur briefly." Leon admitted, to the shock and absolute attention of the gathered men. "I'm afraid to say we were separated from him."

"Explain!" The King ordered in an urgent manner.

"We were taken prisoner by King Alined and held in his dungeons as he tortured us for information. It was some days later we heard news that Prince Arthur was also in the dungeons, from the mouth of a young boy. This young boy must've helped the Prince to somehow escape his cell as the two of them released us from ours the next night. It was as we were escaping, Deorham knights chased into the woods, that Sir Owain was struck down in our defense. We were separated from the Prince in the chaos, and I fear that he remains in King Alined's custody." Leon informed Uther.

He watched as the King grew more and more incensed as the report went on and by the end he was angry enough to sput with rage. "You left my son, your Prince, in the hands of an enemy." King Uther hissed.

"It is my greatest shame that I have let down my Prince numerous times now. However weakened, injured and unarmed as we were I am at a loss as to how we could have benefited the Prince." Leon tried to explain. He hoped not to get executed, or flogged. It was entirely a possibility for such a disastrous failure. He hoped that his own confession of shame would help.

It seemed that tonight of all nights, Leon would be lucky. As Uther's rage simmered into determination. He rose and addressed everyone in the tent, "Tomorrow we shall wage battle with Deorham. By light of day we will rescue Prince Arthur. For the sake of our future, failure is not an option. Tomorrow, should any of again fail in your duties to your Prince, you will face the axe."

At that the King swept from the tent. Leon near collapsed in relief. He would not yet face punishment. Though he yet might the coming day. He didn't know what would happen come dawn but he swore, not to his King, but to his Prince - and to himself - that he would not fail his Prince again. He would return to Camelot with Prince Arthur, or he wouldn't return at all.

XxX


	14. I'll Fight For You

In the light of dawn, men stood in lines facing each other across the field of battle. As the men gathered, Leon stood at the front behind his King. Even after a night resting in the physician's tent, his body was not wholly recovered from ordeals. Despite this he would not- could not, sit out this fight. He was going to get his Prince back.

The lines of Deorham soldiers split in two making a path down the middle, down which King Alined walked with his own entourage, the ranks falling closed behind him.

Leon sucked in a breath to see Prince Arthur at the King's side, shackled and dragged by Deorham knights. At the sight King Uther and his own party, the battle generals and Sir Leon, walked forward; The two groups meeting in the middle of the field.

The two knights accompanying Arthur forced him to his knees beside King Alined. The sight caused a growl to try and make its way up Leon's throat, but he swallowed it in silence. Looking towards his own King, Uther's eyes were fixed on his son, expression guarded; Leon could not tell what the man was feeling, relief at seeing his son alive, anger at his treatment? But the King looked in complete control.

"Let us not dally pretentiously and get to the point of the matter. This boy here, the knight standing at your back," King Alined's eyes flicked to Sir Leon at those words. "Are the reason we are here."

"Yes. You who dared to take my son captive." Uther hissed out.

"Now now, that isn't true." Alined protested, "It was you who sent him and your knights of Camelot into my lands without consent. It is not I who has trespassed the rules Uther!" He finished in a booming voice.

Uther glared at the other King. "You will release my son to me this day. Save yourself this battle Alined, this war you have no chance to win."

Alined smirked at that and replied smugly, "Oh I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Arthur, who had up until that point been focused on his father, longingly, turned at Alined's words to glare at the King with pure hatred. Leon wondered what it was the Prince knew. Uther himself must have seen the glare for Leon saw caution flicker across the King's gaze.

"However I am willing to overlook the trespasses of Camelot, and I have no use for which to keep your Prince; I am more than willing to return him to you... for a price." Alined's smirk had not yet fallen, his words only giving Leon more reason to want to slice it off his face.

At Uther's glower Alined continued, "Enough gold to fill the coffers of Deorham? Some of that fertile land you hoard to yourself? I wish for battle as much as you, I'm sure we can come to an agreement so we can go our separate ways, no blood spilled."

Uther gaze grew darker and darker throughout Alined's little monologue. "Camelot will never bow down to Deorham!" He spat out.

"And here I thought you might have cared about your only heir more than that. You should remember Uther," Alined raised his brows and opened his palms as though merely offering advice, that damn smirk however didn't move. "If you refuse my deal and lose this battle, Prince Arthur is mine. Are you willing to risk his life?"

That cautious glint flickered through Uther's eyes once more. Leon looked from Uther to Arthur, kneeling, no longer glaring at Alined, but staring behind him towards... the boy, Merlin, whom they'd tried to rescue as well. Leon couldn't fathom why they'd brought him as well to the battlefield let alone along with Alined's entourage, and he couldn't fathom what look it was Arthur was sending the boy's way. But the boy wasn't returning it, merely staring singlemindedly at his own boots. He looked back to Alined that smirk still on his face, looking to all the world as though he'd already won. He seemed so assured of victory. Arthur was looking forward again, catching Leon's eye; The Prince knew something. Of that Leon was sure, they were missing something here. Alined had something they didn't know about... something to turn the tide of the battle? If only Leon could ask Arthur what he knows.

"There is no risk, you will pay for taking my son." Uther replied, tone now hardened in surety.

But the look on Arthur's face... it was almost like... apology? Leon was sure, Arthur looked one more time towards his father in longing and apology before turning towards Alined with determination on his face.

However there was no more time for it to matter. For Arthur was dragged back to his feet, and Alined's entourage turned and returned the way they had come. Just as Uther's melded back into Camelot's own ranks.

Leon watched the army of Deorham into which Arthur had now disappeared. He had only time to swear once more, that he would get Arthur out of Alined's clutches.

The horns blew. The men charged.

The battle had begun.

XxX

Merlin tried to ignore what was happening around him. King Uther Pendragon had stood there, in front of him -- unaware of course, but nevertheless -- Merlin's childhood nightmare. Except that now, he was not the King he had most need to fear.

Alined, Lord Banbury, Arthur and the two knights guarding him, along with Merlin separated from the ranks of the army and headed for a hill overlooking the field.

Merlin just wanted to ignore it, ignore everything, ignore the hold Lord Banbury had on him, ignore King Alined and his jeering taunts towards Arthur. But he couldn't.

"Just a shame your father didn't want to save you. You'd think he'd care about the life of his only heir."

Arthur glared at Alined as he spat, "It doesn't matter, you won't win."

"Have you forgotten already about my secret weapon? Perhaps Uther is better off, without someone so absent-minded on his throne."

"He won't fight for you." Oh, Merlin wished that were true. He wished he could share Arthur's certainty. But if Alined wanted him to fight, made him fight, what could Merlin do?

"I think it's time you and your _friend_, learned who's in control here." Turning to Lord Banbury he ordered. "Take the Prince with you, let him see the power that I've harnessed. The power that will bring your father to his knees." He hissed at Arthur, before striding off towards the command tent, as the knights followed Lord Banbury to the hill.

When they reached the pinnacle, Merlin looked out on the field in time to see the opposing sides crash into each other as the battle began. He flinched away and tried to turn his head, but Lord Banbury gripped his chin and forced him to face forward. To watch. The glint of metal, the chaos, the mayhem, the blood. Flashes of swords and flailing limbs, men falling to the ground to never get up and others groaning until they are trodden into silence. The men who had been arrayed in neat picturesque rows, covering the entire field until it was all you could see. Too much, too much blood, too much death, too much.

He wanted to start crying again, but he was sure he had run out of tears, he could only stare in horror and wish for it to end.

Minutes passed, it felt like hours, like he'd stood on that hill for an eternity. "Time for your part." Lord Banbury cut across the clanging and screams. "Time to use your magic."

Merlin wanted to say no, he wanted to shake his head. But what could he do? Arthur's words from the night before rose to the front of his mind: _"T__hat's what your magic's going to do. It's going to do what you want it to do."_

"Create a storm. Make it rain lightning on our enemies." Lord Banbury's voice came from behind him, hands firmly on Merlin's shoulders, trapping him, encasing him, holding him there.

But that isn't what he wanted his magic to do. He didn't want to create a storm. But he could feel the magic rising within him anyway, answering the call.

_Sometimes the winner of a duel isn't the one with the highest skill, but the opponent with the strongest will. _

His magic was brimming underneath his skin, desperate to escape. But it was _his... _wasn't it? All this... power... had there always been this much? Expanding within him, outward and... out. It wanted out.

"_Boy_." Came the growl, seeming distant from Merlin's focus. "Do not forget who your magic belongs to. I am the one in control here."

Belongs to... In control... but it was _his..._ wasn't it? His magic belonged to him, it always had. He was the one in control, he always had been.

But he was sure it had never been quite like this. There hadn't been this much, it hadn't strained against his will, bucked against his skin, begged within his soul, to be free. It didn't feel like him anymore, it was something else, it's own entity. And it didn't want to obey him. It didn't belong to him and he didn't control it.

'_I'm sorry, Arthur._' He thought.

His magic exploded; finally free.

XxX

Arthur wanted to kill Lord Banbury. Merlin wasn't his. Merlin wasn't anyone's to use or control or contain. Arthur hadn't known him long, and really knew so little of the other boy, but what he did know, was that Merlin was good, or at least he desperately wanted to be. That Merlin was a child who wanted to be with his mother. That he didn't her to be ashamed of him. Arthur knew that Merlin talked, _a lot, _even to people he didn't like, even to the Prince of Camelot, because Merlin just couldn't not talk. Merlin was kind, and he shared food even if he was hungry and even cared about whether Arthur had enough eat. He smiled... very rarely, but it was an adorable smile that Arthur knew from trying it was impossible to hate. And to see this man, this ignoble man who dares espouse himself worthy of the title Lord, tower over Merlin, kind, talkative, young, _good_, Merlin, and try and control him... Arthur wanted to kill him.

When Merlin's magic exploded he got his chance. He hadn't looked at the battlefield since they'd reached the hill, he had only eyes for Merlin. But he could hear the battle raging and he could see the horror on every corner of Merlin's face. And he saw... he saw when Merlin's expression changed from horror, to fear, to despair, to resignation. And he knew when to duck.

The air around him crackled with power, as the wind around him picked up and surged over his head, thunder booming.

Glancing up he saw the knights that had been holding him had been tossed off their feet and were likewise huddled on the grass. Benefitting from a lack of surprise, Arthur charged forward and withdrew one of the knight's swords from his scabbard. Immediately bringing the hilt down on the knight's head. He whirled around to the other who had not yet made it to his feet and slashed at his chest. Blood flew from the opening wound and the knight fell back to the ground.

Turning to Banbury side-on, he saw the man with his finger's dug into his Merlin's shoulder and wearing a manic grin. But Banbury couldn't see him, couldn't see past the power that Arthur too, could feel in the air. Rushing forward Arthur plunged the sword into Banbury's side and watched as his eyes widened with shock and his claw-like hold on Merlin slipped as the man fell to his knees.

Arthur glared at him. He wanted to stab him again, stay there until he was sure Banbury was dead, but he had other priorities. He walked around to stand in front of Merlin and looked into his eyes, glowing that bright and unnatural gold.

"Merlin, you can stop now. We have to leave." He enunciated carefully, one hand gripping Merlin's arm. He caught the boy's eyes flicker closer to focus on his face, and watched as the gold faded away. Arthur's hand moved down to clutch Merlin's and he tugged at the boy, "Come on."

They turned and ran, away from the hillside. Arthur thought he heard garbled shouts echo after them. He hoped Banbury would choke on his own blood, but he didn't look back. He held tight onto Merlin's hand and they ran.

XxX

When Leon had heard the first boom of thunder overhead, he'd known it was magic. He'd known that that must've been what was behind Alined's smirk. It had created a spark of panic in Leon's gut, if Alined was using sorcerors then he would win. It was one thing to hunt down a sorceror on their own, it was another to fight them as part of an army, and Camelot's soldiers were unprepared to do so.

So when the storm suddenly cleared after barely a minute had passed, Leon hadn't known whether to be relieved or more worried. What was Alined playing at? Was it supposed to be a threat of force? But why show his hand?

Nevertheless, Leon slashed at his opponent's knees and ended him with a vicious stab when the man fell. Magic or not, Leon had an oath to uphold, fear be damned.

XxX

The hill had been surrounded, on one side by the battlefield and on the other by the vast array of tents laid out for soldiers when the battle was done. It was towards the tents that Arthur had lead Merlin. They ran through the camp, mostly abandoned since everyone had left.

As Arthur turned at one of the tents, he glanced armour and immediately yanked Merlin back as he hunkered down behind the tent. Peering around, he saw a knight carrying another and running across a commons area towards another tent. He could see men appearing and disappearing behind tent flaps, physicians and the injured and realised he'd stumbled into the medical section of the camp. They were already bringing back casualities. Arthur could see along one edge of the large commons area, a line being made of those already dead.

"Not that way then." Arthur whispered to Merlin and took them back through the tents to find another way out. The camp was sprawling and it acted as a maze. After several minutes, Arthur looked at the sky and sun rising in the east. He'd just have to head east, and as long as he returned to that direction whenever they came across someone's path, Arthur figured they'd reach the edge of the camp eventually.

Arthur listened closely to the sounds around them and when he heard footsteps they ducked down behind a tent until they passed. One such occurence hadn't been an injured soldier on his way to a physician. Four knights had barrelled down the path, one shouting orders for places to look.

"Erdogan on your right!"

"Check that tent there!"

"Find them!"

He saw Merlin's eyes widen as he paled, and knew that Merlin had reached the same conclusion. The knights were looking for them. Arthur wanted to slap himself, of course Alined had noticed their disappearance from the hill when the storm stopped. It wasn't exactly subtle.

Raising his finger to his lips, Arthur gestured for silence and nudged Merlin away from the knights as they silently got back to their feet.

The camp was now crawling with knights, and Arthur thanked whoever was out there that the camp was such a maze as it made it harder for them to be found.

When they reached the last tent, an expanse of field laid out before them in the sun and the sounds of battle having grown more and more distant behind them, Arthur wanted to laugh in relief.

He looked over at Merlin grinning, to see the boy staring at the sight with widened eyes and constantly glancing back over his shoulder. They were not safe yet, Arthur realised. So once again, they ran; As far away from Deorham's army and King Alined as they could run.

XxX

Leon decided that relief was the proper response for the storm's disappearance, for whatever magic had conjured it had seemingly disappeared. No unusual or unnatural events occured again and Camelot had soon overcome the surprise and panic. What short benefit had been granted Deorham by the storm, had not turned the tide. Camelot's superior number and skill triumphed.

Before they could truly end the battle, before Leon could charge into Deorham's camp with his fellow knights and find Arthur, the enemy retreated.

Now, standing at the edge of the abandoned camp, in which only the injured and dead had been left behind, Leon wanted to scream. Alined would've been among the first to flee when he knew the battle was lost, and he'd have kept Arthur with him.

Leon had not fought with his already strained body, for a whole bloody hour, only to stand at an empty camp, empty of Arthur, his one goal. He could scream, and he would if it would make any difference.

Only he knows it would not. All that matters now is finding Arthur. And there is no reason to stay, to see if Uther will follow through on his threat of execution should his son not be returned to him. He must save Arthur, he cannot save Arthur if he is dead. If Uther should execute him then so be it, but not before he fulfills his oath. He will find Arthur, and he will bring him home. He will not return to Camelot until Arthur is by his side.

He removes his cape and leaving it lying on the ground, he turns and leaves the field. He knows he will marked as a deserter, but that does not matter. All that matters is finding Arthur.

XxX

The two boys don't stop running until well into the afternoon. At times slowing though they never dared stop. They crossed several fields, several hills and a stream, before they collapsed. Red-faced, out of breath, and with legs that felt more like liquid than muscle, they lay on the grass exhausted.

After several minutes of silence broken only by panting breaths, Merlin spoke up, "Thank you." It came out as little more than a breath, a whisper and Arthur knew he hadn't the energy nor the breath for anything more than that.

Arthur smiled, one of pure joy and relief. "I may not have told you this, but I made you a promise. You know, that first time you came running down to the dungeons."He looked over at Merlin to see the boy had rolled his head to meet his gaze. And while he was still smiling, it wasn't quite so wide, but more serious when he said, "I swore I wouldn't let anyone turn you into a monster. That includes Banbury."

"But- my magic it-" Merlin broke off, as though unsure what to say.

"It what?"

"It killed people." The boy whispered, and Arthur thought that this time it wasn't because Merlin didn't have the breath.

"Your magic will not turn you into a monster." Arthur didn't look away from Merlin, he looked him in the eyes as sincerely as he could. "That's a promise. Not your magic. Not Banbury or Alined. Not the whole wide world. You are not going to become a monster, because I won't let it happen."

Arthur saw hope light up Merlin's eyes. "I don't want to use magic. Not again. Not ever again." Merlin breathed out, the hope mingling with fear.

"Then don't. As long as it's what _you _want."

There were tears in Merlin's eyes, but he was smiling too. And Arthur had to smile back, because that smile, it was still adorable.

Merlin smile wilted a little though. "But, shouldn't you being going back to, to Camelot? They're still here, you could go home."

Arthur just shook his head. "What was it you told me last night was what you wanted?"

"My mother."

"Then that's what I should be doing. When you're home I can go back to Camelot. They're both North from here anyway." Merlin stared at him in surprise. "I'm not going to just leave you here." Arthur stated as though it were obvious. And really it should've been.

Here he is, stabbing Lords and making promises and running away for a sorceror. After all that, he's not leaving Merlin alone until he's sure the boy's safe.

XxX

A/N: And they're free at last! Hope you enjoyed, please review! :)


	15. Rain Doesn't Soothe A Temper

"Let's not get caught this time." Merlin suggested as the pair stood before another town.

Two nights had passed since they'd fled Alined, and they hadn't found anyone pursuing them, but they had ended up in much the same circumstance as before: No food, no water, no warmth. Arthur had once again created his makeshift slingshot and they had taken to following the stream they'd found so they wouldn't lose the water supply. However the nights were cold and they'd suffered the first without even a fire due to the lack of flint.

Merlin knew it would be easier if he just magicked them a fire, but just thinking of it made him all too aware of the eager leaping in his stomach of his magic desperate to get out; To create fire, to burn things, to cause destruction. He couldn't bear thinking of his magic, so he ignored it. Pretended that there wasn't anything unusual under his skin, and shivered through the night until morning. Arthur had offered to share his cloak, but Merlin had disagreed, Arthur needed the warmth and it wasn't his fault Merlin was too scared to make a fire.

They'd found flint the day after, and Merlin thought that would be the end of it, except it had rained that night and doused the measly flames they'd managed to spark. Merlin had accepted the offering of the cloak that night, as they'd been unable to find any form of shelter in the dark and it was the closest thing to protection they had. Nevertheless both had woken soaked to the bone and freezing, the rain still falling.

Past midday, it still hadn't let up. Miserable and shivering, both were beyond glad to have found somewhere with roofs, somewhere dry. However the gladness all too mirrored the last time they'd found a town and hesitation caused them to halt as they looked on the settlement before them.

"That much is obviously desirable." Arthur scathed.

He'd been like this since it had started raining, evidently Arthur could get grumpy when uncomfortable. His moodiness was half the reason Merlin wanted to get somewhere dry.

"Well any plans for not getting noticed, o Wise Prince?" Arthur glared at him.

"We need the shelter but we can't afford to be seen; Alined no doubt has knights after us. If anyone reports seeing us here... We sneak in, find somewhere to take shelter for the night and leave first thing in the morning."

Merlin nodded and they both went into the town.

XxX

"This'll do." Merlin suggested, slipping through a barn door. It was a small building on the edge of town, straw strewn on the floor with three cows kept inside.

"Well, at least it's dry." Arthur muttered, curling his lip at the cows and shuffling to the opposite side of the barn. Merlin screwed up his mouth but stayed silent, crawling into a shivering huddle beside Arthur, while the rain battered the wooden barn.

After they sat in silence for awhile Arthur spoke up, "We'll have to steal some supplies before we leave."

"I thought you were against stealing."

Merlin thought back on that day after their initial escape, they'd been freezing then too, and starving. Despite Arthur's disapproval he'd magicked their food out of the bags of the passing travelers. Back when he'd thought he knew his magic, when using it was so simple. His magic could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, limited only by other's fears. Finish his chores early, grow fruit on deadened winter trees, warm their hearth and make pictures in the fire. When his magic was innocent and he didn't have to fear using it.

The hum under his skin only continued to grow stronger these past few days, no matter how much he tried to ignore it; Prickling in his blood and making it itch inside where he couldn't reach it. It only heightened his surety that his magic was stronger and more dangerous and volatile than before. Something had changed about it and he didn't know what or why. Perhaps something had broken that day of the storm in Deorham. But then, that didn't seem quite right, before Deorham, before even stealing the food from the travelers, something was different. The day he and Arthur fled the bandits he'd thrown them back, he was sure he'd been in control then, more so than in Deorham, but how much magic had he used? He'd just recovered from a sickness, was exhausted and panicked, he couldn't quite remember what he'd been doing. Had something changed even then? Had he just not noticed until Lord Banbury?

"Are you even listening to me?" Arthur's petulant tone snapped him back to the present, as the other boy glared in his direction.

"What?"

"I said, that was before I got aquainted with survival without a castle and a regiment of knights and servants to ensure it for me." Merlin stared at him oddly, since when did Arthur mention his old life? He must be quite irritated Merlin thought. "What is it then?"

"What's what?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Whatever you're thinking about that's so much more important than me."

Merlin snorted. But, no, he was not telling Arthur about his magic.

"Just homesick." Arthur eyed him so Merlin continued, "Aren't you? Must be missing all those servants and knights to bow at you and wait on you hand and foot."

Arthur glared. "Actually no. It's suffocating."

Merlin scrunched up his face. "How? Wouldn't it be nice having people do things for you?"

"No. I can do things on my own. It's insulting. Father and the knights hardly let me fight my own battles even when I'm capable of it."

"Oh, so it was your competence that lead you to be gored and trussed up by bandits." Merlin said with wide eyes as though everything was suddenly becoming crystal clear.

Arthur didn't appreciate it. "No! Although I clearly need to rethink some of my life choices. Such as, how I ended up in a barn, soaked and starving, with a sorceror." He spat.

Merlin's breathing picked up. "I didn't ask you to come with me! You could have gone back to the field and your father and gone home to your horribly suffocating castle where you lie around all day and whine about your life!"

There was a creak and movement outside, causing both boys to whip their heads towards the door. Those were definitely footsteps.

"Now look what you've done." Arthur hissed at him. "They'll find us here any second now."

Grasping Merlin's wrist Arthur tugged him towards the door, but Merlin wrenched it back. "If you so regret my company then just go crawl on home by yourself, I'm not stopping you. No need for us to go together."

Arthur growled at him. "Are you mad? Just-" He huffed. "Come on!"

Grabbing Merlin's wrist again he dragged them out the door and around the corner before the owners reached the barn.

"Alfie?" A woman called out.

"Barn door's open." A man shouted back. After a moment of silence in which Arthur assumed the man was looking around he shouted again, "Cows haven't escaped! Must've been the wind or a wild animal. All's fine now."

Merlin snatched his wrist back again once the danger passed and glared at Arthur, although he wasn't sure the other boy could see it in the darkness. He stomped off.

"Where are you going?" He heard Arthur hiss after him as the other boy hurried after him.

"Why are you following me?"

"Because I don't want to just stand here in the rain." Arthur said as if speaking to someone particularly slow. "They're gone now, we should go back inside."

"Back inside? With a _sorceror_." Merlin raised his voice to a falsetto. "I wouldn't want to subject his _highness _to such-"

"Oh for godsake! You're being ridiculous."

"You're an arse!" Merlin yelled at him, turning around.

"Well, I'm certainly not the only one! You called me incompetent. Is that why you want me gone, can't trust someone so useless to take you home." Merlin could hear Arthur's voice wavering between emotions.

Like Arthur was the one hurt. So what if Merlin talked about his castle and his knights and his servants... this was unbelievable, Merlin thought. So he hadn't wanted to sympathise with a spoilt Prince, so what? "You called me a sorceror!"

"You are one!"

Merlin gaped.

Then the roar sounded.

In the tree line of the forest neither boy had realised they'd trudged back to, a beast appeared behind Arthur. Maw open wide and teeth bared, crouched and ready to strike.

Merlin scrambled back with widened eyes. He saw Arthur turn around at the sound and made to cry out but he was too late. The creature lunged. Sharp and deadly claws slashed at the Prince. Merlin looked around desperately for a stick, a stone, anything he could use as a weapon.

There was blood. He saw Arthur try to leap back only to trip. Lying still long enough for the beast to latch its claws into flesh. Arthur screamed and went limp.

Merlin screamed.

He couldn't help it. No matter what promise he made or resolution. No matter how much he tried to ignore it. The power prickling in his blood, making him shiver and itch, rose at his fear. There was no holding it back. One might as well try to move a mountain as to placate this rising tide to recede.

He screamed and with a loud explosion of light the beast screeched and was flung across the clearing.

Merlin rushed forward and with hitching breaths knelt at Arthur's side. There was so much blood. Flesh missing from blatant wounds across his torso. Merlin didn't know what to do.

His magic hummed in his body, in the air around him, surrounding him with power, too much and everywhere and he didn't know what to do with it. His ears popped. His lungs constricted. His skin crawled. The whole forest suddenly seemed to teem with life and vitality, but if he couldn't do something then Arthur wouldn't.

_Help. _He pleaded with the power surrounding him. To anything that would listen he called out, _help._

_Help!_

XxX

**A/N: I'm cruel I know. **

**Too Moonlover04, I am sorry it took so long! However your message was very touching. I had no idea people would be so interested in still reading they'd comment about it. So thank you! And you did inspire me to hurry up with this update. A few things happened, including wanting to iron out what comes next before updating and writing myself into a corner, end of and return to school and many assessments, as well as a storm that knocked out our WiFi or I would've messaged you back sooner.**

**In any case here's the new chapter, next one shouldn't so far off. **


	16. Meet The Druids

Merlin tried to blink open his eyes, but at the spark of pain that ignited in his chest and shot to his head, he scrunched them closed again. Gasping through the sudden ache he didn't dare move. His breathing was... weird, as if he couldn't quite take a breath deep enough; The ache whenever his chest expanded was not helping.

The last thing he remembered...

_Help._

The plea resounding through the power saturated woods, echoing in Merlin's head. A popping sound and a rising tide. A beast and blood and...

He had to move. He rolled onto his side, his mouth already opening, tongue trying to form the word. Slowly this time he carefully peeled his eyes open, blinking around to see a... tent? What was going on, where was...

"Arthur." Across from him, pale-faced on a mound of furs lay Arthur. His hair stuck to a sodden brow and bandages covering his torso. "Arthur."

'_You're awake_ .'

A feminine voice rang in his head making the ache in his chest shoot up into a pounding in his head. Startled, Merlin twisted around, only to yelp and collapse back onto to his back, eyes scrunched shut once more.

'_Don't move._'

The voice sounded fond yet reprimanding and Merlin's heart ached as he thought of his mother.

"What- Who?" His voice rasped.

"Shh." A soothing voice sounded from his other side.

'_Don't move. _' Echoed through his head once more when he tried to turn towards the voice. The renewed pounding make Merlin moan.

There was a hand under his head and a cup touched his lips. He sipped at the water, trying to follow it when it was taken away. He was pressed back against what he now recognised as his own pile of furs with the instruction to '_lie still'._

He winced. "That hurts," he moaned.

"Your head hurts?" A soft voice asked, same as the one that seemed the ring in his head and knock against his eyes. He nodded.

Opening his eyes once more he rolled his head sideways to see a woman, dressed quite plainly. She lifted her hand to stroke his brow, a strange look in her eyes that Merlin couldn't discern.

"Who are you?" He asked, his mouth at least under his control and acting normally. He couldn't say as much for any other part of his body, his chest twinged with every breath, his head ached and the rest of his body felt frail and exhausted.

"My name is Deira."

"What happened? How am I... here?"

"You called for help."

Yes. Well, he thinks he had. His magic had done... something, sent some sort of plea out. "You heard."

"We answered."

"Arthur?" Merlin asks, rolling his head to the other side to see the wounded Prince.

"Badly injured, but we have good healers here. Your friend will be fine."

Friend, Merlin winces. Were they? After everything they'd been through... but they certainly hadn't been acting like it before the beast had struck.

"Rest. You'll feel better once you've slept."

Merlin shook his head, he couldn't sleep.

"As stubborn as any boy." The woman muttered. "Swefe nu." At her whisperings darkness crept once more upon him and his pains disappeared.

XxX

When Merlin next awoke the woman, Deira, wasn't there. His chest still twinged and his limbs seemed weak, his blood prickling once more with the magic running through it. Merlin shivered and looked around for something, anything else to focus on.

Arthur. He had more colour than the last time Merlin was awake. He was more restless too, fidgeting in his sleep, rather than lying still as the dead; It was a reassuring sight.

Unfortunately the sight of Arthur didn't take Merlin's mind off his magic, it only reminded him of their fight before the beast's attack, and of his sudden outburst afterwards.

Without a doubt his magic had changed. He couldn't exactly deny that, although he had no idea what it meant. It had never done that before, exploded out of him against his will yes, but that... The magic wasn't destructive, it was... Well, Merlin didn't what it was doing. Something that felt... like he was overflowing perhaps or at home or united. But he wasn't, he was panicking while lost in the woods as far from home as he'd ever been while the only person he actually knew and could trust bled out before him.

Perhaps the feeling was deceptive but also, he'd thought he could trust Arthur. The boy kept rescuing him from his captors, he'd sworn he'd look after Merlin and yet, that night, he'd called Merlin a sorceror. Maybe, Merlin might concede, he'd said some hurtful things. But Arthur had just outright branded him a sorceror and didn't even seem sorry afterwards.

And how could Merlin blame him? He was a sorceror, even now, even if he didn't want to be. What else would, whatever that was in the woods, be called? He didn't have to like it or even accept it for it to be so. It was the truth, but still, he didn't think Arthur needed to throw it in his face like that.

Why did he have to be this way? What was happening to him? Merlin curled into a ball on his side as he stared at Arthur, and pondered these questions until Deira returned.

He was silent this time, even as Deira asked him if he hurt anywhere and how he was feeling. How could he possibly explain? Explain what it felt like to have his magic clamour under his skin for his attention, for its freedom. How the power surged around his chest and yet would simmer placidly in his belly. And how despite all that his chest felt hollow and his body capable of only breathing and the barest of slow turns. Explain how he was humming with strength and yet as weak as a newborn kitten and how all this only made him ache.

XxX

The third time Merlin woke he stayed awake. He was even able to sit up and feed himself the soup Deira brought him. His chest expanded properly, his head was clear and arms no longer felt like limp grainstalks, he was himself again. Of course the magic still bubbled away within him, but he'd rather ignore that.

Deira didn't stay long. Sitting silently with a sleeping Arthur didn't much appeal to Merlin. Although, now clearer of mind he was able to make out other noises beyond the tent, shuffling of feet, sizzling of meat with the pop of a campfire, and most apparent, the voices. It occured to him then that Deira wasn't the only person here, and this likely wasn't the only tent.

The need to know where he was and what was going on led Merlin to shove aside his blanket and crawl towards the tent flap. Surprisingly he didn't feel any pain or weariness. He didn't really want to imagine where the rejuvination came from.

When he pulled aside the flap he could see a bustling camp. There was a firepit in front of his tent, and several other tents set up around it, as well as behind them. He was clearly in the centre of this camp. Unfortunately that also meant this fire was surrounded by people who took notice at his sudden appearence.

When they turned towards him he scuttled away from the flap, letting it fall closed behind him. Breathing quickening he hunched in on himself on the other side of the tent, at the head of his makeshift bed.

His retreat, however, didn't make them leave him alone. A man entered, Merlin inching back for every step he took towards him. The man was tall enough to need to bow his head to stand, although he didn't remain standing for long as he crouched down in front of Merlin inbetween him and Arthur.

"You need not fear." He said in a smooth baritone. Merlin didn't agree.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ogden."

Merlin looked past him towards Arthur, lying helpless in the middle of this camp of who knows what kind of people. They may have healed them so far, but frankly Merlin's track record of coming across strangers in the woods was not a good one. Still perhaps he could finally find out just how Arthur was doing, being the only one awake and moving was quickly becoming nerve-racking.

"Why isn't Arthur waking up?"

"Even magic takes time to heal, little Emrys."

"Magic?"

"We are druids. Magic is a part of our way of life."

That didn't make Merlin feel anymore trusting. He stared at Arthur, hoping he'd wake. He was alone here otherwise. Arthur had promised to protect him.

"Your friend will recover well given time, don't worry, little Emrys."

"He's not my friend." Merlin told him, ignoring how the statement made stomach sink. Ogden merely raised an eyebrow skeptically. Merlin had to change the subject. "What did you call me?"

"Emrys."

"My name's Merlin."

Ogden grinned at Merlin, seeming overly pleased. "That may be what your mother calls you."

"That's what a name is." Merlin pointed out.

"Most of the time. But I will call you Merlin if you wish."

That wasn't much of a concession. Frankly knowing the man was a druid and his name was Ogden wasn't enough.

"What do you want with us?" If he'd managed to get trapped by someone else who was overly interested in his magic, he was going to have a few things to say about it.

"You called out for help. We are a peaceful people, hospitality is one of our tenets."

"You just want to heal us? Then you'll let us go?" He needed to be sure.

"We will not keep you against your will, Merlin," Ogden said. Merlin deflated a little at that, at last. "If you have your worries out of the way, I was going to say that you're looking much better." Merlin nodded, unsure of how to respond. His face heated a little as he thought of being in the care of all these strangers. "Since you have recovered and regained your strength once more, we should talk about your magic."

Oh, damn. Merlin thought, he just must be the unluckiest person to ever walk the earth.

"No." He meant to say it firmly, but it came out weaker than he'd intended, almost like a whimper.

"We could feel your magic when we found you in the woods. It was everywhere, imbued in the very earth. Just to stand there was... intoxicating."

Oh, this was not good. This definitely counted as overly interested. And even worse, he'd caught on to Merlin's exact fears. There _was_ something unusual about what he'd done, he'd known it.

"What do you mean?" He hadn't meant to ask the question but his curiousity must have outweighed his worry. This was someone who knew more about magic than he did. He'd never had anyone who'd actually explained magic to him, although after his last teacher he thought that might be just as well.

"You're magic is unique. You may call yourself Merlin but what you were when we found you... You are truly Emrys." He stared at Merlin with wonder and awe in his eyes which didn't make anything clearer.

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. You are just a child." Ogden leaned forward as if taking Merlin into his confidence. "But you will one day. There is no reason for that day to be today. However, I feel I should warn you of something. One piece of advice I can give, your magic is only going to grow stronger."

Merlin shook his head. "No. No, I don't even want it."

The druid stared at him with wide eyes. "Don't want-" It was Ogden's turn to shake his head. "Want it or not, your magic is you. There is no changing that. If you try to deny it you will only make this worse in yourself." He explained, keeping his tone level.

Merlin shook his head, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"I never thought that- You are truly just a young boy." Ogden looked at Merlin then, the same as Deira had before, as if astounded by something he didn't even notice. He didn't understand that anymore than the rest of this conversation.

"I will leave you now. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like. I am the leader of this camp, and you will always find a refuge here, should you ever need it."

At that, Ogden stood and left the tent. Merlin was left alone, once more sitting in silence with only a sleeping Prince for company, except with a mind buzzing with new questions, none of them positive.

XxX

**A/N: Sorry there's no Arthur. The boys will get their talk next chapter.**


	17. Natural Enemies

Arthur woke up the next day.

It was still morning, and Merlin had been watching the other boy from his own bed, hugging his knees to his chest, contemplating.

When Arthur woke up he blearily looked at Merlin and then around him before saying, "We don't have a tent."

Merlin stared for a moment, unsure, before he replied, "The druids do."

"Druids?!" Arthur tried to sit up in his surprise but his yell became a yelp as he fell back onto the furs.

"Yeah, don't suppose you have many of them in Camelot? Having massacred them all." Merlin's light tone was undercut by the sarcasm.

Whipping his head towards Merlin, Arthur gaped at him. As the uncomfortable silence continued, Merlin realised Arthur didn't know what to say next.

Merlin decided to change the subject. "There was a some sort of beast. It got you pretty bad," he said, gesturing with his head towards Arthur's heavily bandaged torso.

"The druids healed me?" Merlin nodded.

He pressed his lips shut. Now that Arthur was awake, Merlin didn't really want to talk to him. He didn't know who he was to Arthur or who Arthur was to him, no matter how much of the morning he'd spent thinking about it, just to not think about his magic.

"We should leave as soon as you can walk," Merlin said. Sooner he could get away from Ogden the better, then he could ignore that the other man was right; He shook his head to rid himself of the thought.

"You don't want to stay with the druids?" Arthur asked as though he didn't understand.

"Why because they have magic?" Merlin fired back, with perhaps more vitriol than necessary.

"What is up with you?" Arthur asked. "I can't dislike the druids, I can't like them... You're as confusing as a _girl_, Merlin!"

"I'm not a girl!" Arthur just looked at him skeptically. "They have magic. But they're also interested in _my _magic. So I'd really rather get on our way." He tried to explain slowly.

"Interested... like Banbury?" There was a look on Arthur's face, almost protective, which made the situation just more incomprehensible to Merlin.

He shrugged in response. "I don't think they want to... use me." He was not mentioning what had happened after Arthur was attacked, or how Ogden responded to it, or how they had some other name for him. "It's just weird." He wasn't sure how else to say it.

"So, you're waiting for me to get better? You didn't just abandon me in a druid camp and make your own way?" Arthur asked, looking away from Merlin.

"What? Why would I do that?" Merlin tried to make it sound like he didn't know the answer, but the lump in his stomach told him he was lying. This was the Prince of Camelot. He was a sorceror. Why were they doing this together, why hadn't they separated and gone their own ways? By all rights, Arthur should've been home by now, a whole army was _right there _with the mind to take him home. It was exactly everything he'd been thinking over since that fight in the rain, there was no rational reason for them to stick together.

"I thought I was incompetent." Resentment lingered in Arthur's voice. "And now apparently a murderous druid-hating Prince. Why would you stay?"

Merlin gulped at the bitterness in Arthur's words. It wasn't right. "You're right. You're the Prince of Camelot and I'm a sorceror. We're natural enemies. If we weren't always running for our lives, well you'd have just watched your knights slaughter me." Arthur flinched; Now it was Merlin's turn to stare at the tent wall. "We have absolutely nothing in common."

"So why then?"

"Because we _are_ running for our lives. And you're not incompetent. We need each other... or at least, I need you." He was aware that by the end of that, his tone had become self-deprecating. He'd been reliant on Arthur this whole time, and he didn't feel he'd given anything in return. The Prince had sworn to Merlin that he'd protect him, and Merlin couldn't understand why. Truth was that Arthur didn't need Merlin, like Merlin needed him, he was expendable. Really, he could've just left Merlin behind, and it didn't make sense that he hadn't.

"You need a Prince from magic-hating Camelot that you can't trust?" Merlin thought it should've felt better that he wasn't the only one feeling self-deprecating, but it didn't.

Merlin snorted in laughter. "I do trust you." And it hurt to say. "That's the problem. I can't even trust my own magic. I don't trust _myself_, but I _do _trust you. And that terrifies me." He could feel the tears welling in his eyes.

"Why would you say all those things then?" It could have Merlin's imagination, but he thought that Arthur's voice seemed smaller, unsure which emotion it wanted to express.

"Which things?" It wasn't an entirely dishonest question, he'd said a lot of things, quite a few of them with the express purpose of being hurtful, and others that likely had been whether he'd intended it or not.

"I don't know, Merlin." The sarcasm made Merlin think that if he looked in his direction, Arthur would be rolling his eyes. Merlin still didn't dare look over however; Saying these things was easier when he didn't have to watch Arthur listen, and he could just say them to empty air in front of him. "Perhaps the statements about massacring druids or being enemies."

"We should be." His own voice was stronger this time; He knew it was the truth. They were supposed to be enemies, it was the way of things. "It's the truth. I don't understand why we're not."

"Perhaps, because watching you die is unappealing to me."

"Why?"

And maybe the honest confusion in Merlin's voice for that question, or maybe the part where he was invalid after being mauled by a beast and was no doubt in pain and frustrated with this conversation, was at fault, but Arthur was beyond angry when he next spoke and it was clear in his voice that he was glaring at Merlin; He wanted to look over at the Prince even less now.

"I'm not some monster! Why on earth would I want to watch you die? Do you just think I have no heart, no feelings at all! That I'm incapable of caring for other people?" Arthur shouted.

Merlin flinched. "No."

"This is what I mean!" Arthur continued, as though he hadn't heard Merlin's denial, quiet as it was. "How can you talk like I'm going to go mad and kill you at any moment, and then say that you _trust me_?"

"That's not what I-" He wasn't sure how he wanted to end that sentence. He was honestly confused and none of this made sense and he just trying to say what seemed truthful at the time and it was all going wrong. "I'm not exactly the only one who's saying hurtful things." When there was no reply, Merlin continued in a small voice, "You called me a sorceror."

He heard Arthur sigh. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was trying to be kind, and then you just threw that in my face. I was wet and tired and I- surely you've said things you didn't mean when you were uncomfortable?" Arthur certainly sounded uncomfortable saying all of that.

"Yes. I did that just four days ago in the barn." He admitted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dismissed everything you were saying like that."

"Well then, I'm sorry for mentioning the whole... sorceror thing." The awkwardness in Arthur's tone may have made Merlin smile, just a little bit. "Not sure I understand the 'trusting me' thing yet?"

His smile slipped. "Neither do I. It's complicated."

Arthur huffed. "You aren't a girl. But you _are _as confusing as one."

"Am not!"

"Just tell me the truth then." That may have sounded a bit like pleading, but Merlin was sure on that count he must've been mistaken.

"I have been. You weren't lying when you called me sorceror." He was the lump in his throat hadn't been there before. "I wasn't lying now. The truth isn't as easy as the one word makes it out to be. But I trust you. Even it makes no sense."

XxX

Well, it definitely didn't make sense, not to Arthur. Frankly he was in too much pain for this conversation. He could see the banadages wrapping his torso, copious amounts of them; Couldn't Merlin pity him at least enough to only confuse him when his chest was in one piece?

No, instead his irritating travel companion had to tear his chest open even _more. _The _bastard_. The little twinge in his stomach may have been guilt, for enough hurtful things had been said between them already. But it was true and he'd only _thought_ it, and he was quite annoyed and should at least be able to express that in his own mind, he was sure. It's not as if he could express it out loud where Merlin could hear, he'd probably have some other piece of 'truth' that he could drive like a dagger into Arthur's heart.

It's not like Merlin was the first person to accuse him of being uncaring. It certainly wasn't the first time the accusation hurt either. Morgana for one, loved to find ever more creative ways to say the same thing increasingly painfully. But he did care, and while he wasn't great at expressing it, he'd actually been trying recently and thought he'd been doing alright.

Arthur had looked after Merlin, with some reluctance at first in truth, but he still had. He'd nursed him and gotten them both out of that cage. In hindsight leaving Merlin behind wouldn't have worked as he couldn't walk on his own, but the gesture had been meant purely at the time. He'd decided weeks ago that he didn't want Merlin hurt. He'd kept the boy fed, giving up food for him and hunting rabbits while he laughed ungratefully. He'd even comforted him, and that was about as caring and out of Arthur's comfort zone as it got. Somewhen, somehow, it had become Arthur's role to look after Merlin, even before he'd admitted it.

So Merlin had no right to be so confused as to why Arthur _wouldn't _want him dead. Was it so unfathomable that he wouldn't want to murder a boy he'd spent several weeks surviving alongside? The mere thought of... _"watched your knights slaughter me"_... made Arthur shiver. The thought of Merlin... cut down - and did he have to use the word _slaughter_ as though he were an animal being put down; although Arthur was aware that that was exactly how Camelot knights, _his _knights, would see Merlin. The proud red knight's cloak he'd anticipated for so many years didn't look so grand in that light.

There was honest confusion in Merlin's voice, and yet he was so adamant that trusted Arthur... he would've thrown up his hands in exasperation if he hadn't known the pain that would cause.

He was exasperated and confused and hurt and angry and he _didn't understand_.

XxX

Merlin couldn't stay inside the tent after their conversation. Everything was too tense and awkward, with everything up in the air and Merlin with no idea how to organise it all into cohesive normalcy.

If he was stuck in the druid camp until Arthur was healed, which was at least another week likely, then he may as well explore. As soon as the decision solidified in his mind, he scrambled as quickly as he could out of the tent before Arthur could ask any questions.

Once again, everyone's attention snapped to him. Their gazes made his skin crawl, but the thought of going back in the tent made him even more uncomfortable, so he braced himself and resolutely took another step away from it.

There were five druids around the campfire in front of their tent, but Merlin didn't see Ogden among them which was a small relief.

One darkly coloured man, dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyes, leaned towards the man next to him as if in confidences and faux-whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, "Which reason is it, d'ya think? Finally healthy enough, or finally brave enough to step out of the tent?"

"Oi , you leave him alone, Brennan!" One of the women piped up, slapping the man on the arm.

The man, Brennan, straightened with a grin, conspiratorial glint still in his eye. "Oh I'll 'leave him alone'" He imitated the high-pitch of the woman's voice. "After all, it's getting away from that fight of yours that's chased you out 'ere 'innit?"

"Wh-what?" Merlin asked in a small voice, ready to take that step back towards the tent again, determination having left him. "You heard that?"

"Well you's wasn't whisperin' were ya?"

He hadn't even wanted Arthur to hear half of what he'd said, he definitely didn't like the idea that these strangers had been outside listening to every private word.

"Brennan, aren't there chores you can do? I'm sure that Grandma Ridlin would appreciate having wood for her fire." A woman said to the exuberant man.

Rolling his eyes and commenting on the wiles of women, Brennan made off into the mass of the tents, leaving Merlin with four much quieter druids.

"Don't mind him. Brennan just likes to put on a show. The voice isn't even his, he heard it from traveler in a tavern and thought it sounded exotic." The kind lady told him, smiling endearingly at the end. "My name's Lyla." Lyla stepped towards Merlin, but at his backpedal she crouched down to his level.

"We aren't going to hurt you. You like to be called Merlin right?"

Merlin stared at her for a while. Lyla had vibrant orange hair like Merlin had never seen before, and lots of sunspots across her face like Gelda back in Ealdor. Knowing how Gelda thought about her own, Merlin thought he'd best not mention to them to Lyla.

"Merlin's my name." He told Lyla, confused about how she'd stated her knowledge of his name. He supposed Ogden could have told her, or else she'd overheard Arthur saying it. Lyla just smiled again, as endearingly as she had to Brennan, as if the both of them were acting like children but she'd humour them. The smile didn't endear Merlin to her.

"Of course, Merlin. Did your mother name you after the bird for a reason?"

"She never said."

"Well," Lyla said, standing up. "This is Briony, Wilfred and Abel."

"Abelard." The man corrected, his voice as deep as his broad chest and shoulders suggested.

Lyla just rolled her eyes. "You have nothing to worry from us, Merlin." She intonated his name as if something about it amused her. Merlin was getting surer and surer she'd heard his name from Ogden, and probably thought his name was supposed to be something else too. "Sit with us. Briony here was just making lunch. I'm sure there's some to spare."

"Special stew my mum taught me years ago, it's the only thing I can cook well." Briony smiled at Merlin. Her smile was much nicer than Lyla's, less conspiratory, and it made her look a lot less intimidating then it had when she yelled at Brennan.

Merlin hesistated for a moment, but then came forward and sat down next to Briony. Lyla came back to her spot as well.

"What did you hear?" He really needed to know what he'd revealed to these druids, his mind would never let him rest otherwise.

"Really not all that much." Abelard said. "You weren't whispering sure, but you weren't shouting neither. Except of course when you expressed very adamantly your uh, ungirlishness." Abelard looked as if he was trying quite hard not to smile, Lyla and Wilfred didn't pay the same courtesy. "Nothing more than two boys fighting could be heard I asure you."

Which was little assurance at this particular moment when Merlin could feel his ears burning a startling shade of red. Nevertheless, worse things could have been overheard.

No one else spoke then. They stared at Merlin a lot, and looked between each other as if all in on a secret, but no one outright teased him as Brennan had. Merlin wasn't sure it was any better.

XxX

Arthur stared at the tent flap Merlin had escaped through and thought that for once the younger boy had done something he could actually understand. He too, preferred to run away rather than sit in awkward silence discussing feelings. It was reassuring to see Merlin do something normal finally.

Arthur appreciated the silence and the chance to order his own thoughts. Or at least he told himself that he did. He needed to organise what had just happened into some form of coherency, it was just that, he'd actually rather find that coherency with Merlin's help. He certainly didn't understand what was going through the other boy's head himself.

His own head gave him enough to think about, and if he was being truthful, Merlin running away hurt more than it had brought relief. It hurt like it had the night in the barn and their repeat performance just minutes ago. It hurt like it hadn't when Arthur had managed to bring himself to comfort Merlin just before battle. And it hurt like it hadn't all the weeks before when they didn't trust each other at all.

Thinking back to before Merlin had been Merlin in Arthur's mind, when he'd hesistated to call him anything but a sorceror. The boy had still been irresistably innocent, as innocent as he was chattering endlessly through fields and sobbing in dungeons. Merlin had let Arthur comfort him then, as he had before the battle. Comfort him as Merlin wouldn't let him comfort him now. Not in the barn, not in the druid's tent, Arthur couldn't be nice to Merlin because Merlin wouldn't let him. It made Arthur grit his teeth.

But they'd fought in the fields and it hadn't hurt as much then. They hadn't been friends then either. Were they now? Not if he listened to Merlin. '_Natural enemies'_ he'd said. Maybe Merlin was right, maybe they were. He was the Prince of Camelot and Merlin was a sorceror. Things were easier when they were reluctant to interact with each other, as they should be. Things didn't hurt as much when they hadn't been trying to be friends.

XxX

**A/N: I feel I must apologise. I've actually had this written for 2 weeks and should've uploaded it ages ago! But I was concerned about what happened next and I'm terrified of writing myself into a corner. But I now know like the next 10 chapters, did a bunch of research on history of dark ages Briton which ended up going on for 2 hours longer than I expected, but hey that's google for you.**

**I haven't got a update schedule although I really should make one, maybe one day, but it's luck of dice when I'll upload again at the moment.**

**Thank you for all the reviews! They really do make my day :)**


	18. The Only Thing I Know

Lyla eyed Merlin out of the corner of her eye the entire meal.

"First snow will be days from now, I'm telling you." Wilfred said.

"We have weeks yet." Briony insisted.

"You know what they say, Squirrels gathering nuts in a flurry will cause snow to gather in a hurry. The animals can sense these things and I saw them yesterday, they were in a flurry."

Everyone had their ways and thoughts of wintertime, Merlin supposed, but this argument had been going on for a while and Lyla and Abelard still hadn't stopped looking at him. Even Briony and Wilfred kept stealing glances now and then.

The two debators were the only ones not yet done with their soup, and judging by Lyla's turning towards him, he was going to be brought into conversation soon. Uninterested in the idea, Merlin put down his empty bowl and stood up.

"Thanks for the soup. It was good Briony." He told her with a smile before turning his back on the fire and the tent Arthur was in, and running in the other direction.

He slowed down a few tents later, and wandered around aimlessly for a while. It was largely empty, most druids staying inside as the weather got colder, or out gathering supplies before the snows set in like Wilfred's squirrels.

The air was brisk and he shivered in his thin jacket, wrapping the ends tighter around himself, but he didn't want to go back to his tent yet. He sat by a tree at the edge of camp and breathed warm air into his hands.

"What ya up to 'ere?" A voice sounded behind him, making him jump. Brennan circled around the tree and came to stand before him before crouching down.

"Nothing." Merlin muttered.

Brennan looked him over and said, "It's cold. Ya should get inside." Merlin just shook his head. Brennan laughed. "Scared o' yer friend?"

"He's not my friend." He whispered.

"Sure he's not."

"He's not." Merlin said, louder this time.

Brennan eyed him like every other druid he'd met; Like they knew something he didn't but thought he was acting cute or funny, Brennan though didn't seem ready to humour him. "Why then, when we found you's two in that clearing, was ya magic so frightened?"

"What?"

"I know me magic, kid. Yer magic that day, it was powerful for a reason."

Merlin gulped. "There is a reason?"

Brennan laughed, "Ya don' even know!"

"Know what? What is it you all know that you're not telling me!" He demanded.

"Oh, Emrys." He'd stopped laughing but still had a wide grin on his face. "Yer magic's special. And right now it's scared. Ya should probably do something about that."

Brennan didn't say anymore, he just grinned at Merlin, stood up and walked away.

XxX

Arthur had several hours before Merlin returned to the tent, tense and scowling. It shouldn't be so hard to build up confidence to talk him, but he hesitantly asked, "Are you alright?"

Merlin stared at him for a moment and then looked around the tent. "Do you still have your slingshot?"

Baffled at the non-sequiteur, Arthur reached down and patted his pocket before pulling out the slingshot that was still there.

"I'm sure one of them would give me a knife." Merlin mumbled thoughtfully.

"And why do you need a slingshot and a knife?"

"To go hunting." Merlin answered flatly.

"Right. Why?" It's not that Arthur wanted to push Merlin, certainly not in the realm of conversation, but he was getting worried.

"Because I want as little to do with the druids as possible."

Arthur just nodded, his worry spiking at what could possibly have occured while Merlin was outside.

Merlin turned towards the tent flap to leave again, but turned back to face Arthur, "Do you want to come with?"

"Come with?" He looked pointedly down at his torso.

"I can help you outside. Unless you want to stay stuck in here for the week and look at nothing but dyed fabric and fur..."

"No, no, I'll come with."

Merlin rolled his eyes, but there was a slight uptilt to his lips. Stepping forward, he grabbed Arthur's tunic and cloak and manouevred the Prince to a seating position to clothe him.

The movement was jarring and he winced, but he wasn't in near as much agony as he should have been so early in recovery, it was an uncomfortable reminder that unknown druids had been casting magic on him while he slept. For Merlin's sake, he could come to terms with magic, certainly perhaps it wasn't completely cut and dry, but he didn't know these druids and he'd just rather have been conscious.

Once Merlin had gotten his arms painfully through the holes, and tightened his cloak back around him, he positioned himself under Arthur's arm and heaved him to his feet. He wobbled for a moment before catching his balance. Leaning heavily on the younger boy, they walked out of the tent.

The air was frigid and brisk, but it was fresh and clear. He hadn't noticed how cooped up he was getting in that tent until Merlin mentioned it. But Arthur was not the kind of person who could sit around for hours doing nothing. He liked activity and the outdoors, even if he had to cope with a modicum of pain.

There was a small group of druids sitting around a fire outside their tent. One of the women looked at him with concern.

"Shouldn't he be resting?" She pointedly asked Merlin.

He ignored her and asked, "Do any of you have a spare knife?" Arthur was going to have to mention the rudeness his newfound mission was causing.

A well-built man tossed a knife up in the air before holding it out to the pair hilt-first.

Merlin grabbed the knife. "Thanks Abelard."

"Don't you boys stay out in the cold too long. Deira will want to check his wounds when they return." The woman from before called out after them as they left.

"Who's returning from where?" Arthur asked Merlin as they moved beyond the tents.

"Most of the druids are out hunting, foraging. They're stockpiling for when first snow hits. Deira's been healing you." Arthur nodded.

It was at a slow pace but they made their way into the woods. Merlin's support started pulling on his chest so he stepped away and walked on his own. Arthur wanted to say something, he wanted to figure out what was going on, but Merlin remained silent.

Eventually, Arthur piped up, "What are we even hunting?"

Merlin shrugged. "Squirrels?

"Squirrels?"

"They are in a flurry." The boy muttered. He gave Merlin a strange look and he explained, "It's what Wilfred said." Which really didn't explain anything for Arthur.

After that the two boys were silent again, and Arthur didn't know how to break that. They hadn't walked too much farther when the pain in his chest gave him a reason.

"Can we rest for a minute?"

Merlin turned to look at him and nodded. While Arthur lowered himself onto a fallen log the other boy began pacing.

As Arthur caught his breath a squirrel scurried through the clearing. Both boys eyes snapped to it. Arthur watched as Merlin took hold of the slingshot and fiddled with it for a moment before placing a pebble in it and aiming it at the animal. He didn't let go, he didn't even move, but he was shaking. The squirrel darted away and Merlin lowered his arms. When he turned around, there were tears in his eyes.

He wanted to say something, he needed to say something, but he was wary. "If I'm nice to you, will you snap at me again?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked at him. "Maybe".

"I want to help. Something's bothering you and I want to help."

Merlin stared at him, the tears didn't fall but neither did they go away. "I know." He said softly. "I know you want to help. That's why I said I trust you, why I _do _trust you. You promised to protect me and to get me home. And I know that you meant that. But I think... that may be the only thing that I know right now."

It was a relief to Arthur, that Merlin trusted him because he believed he'd keep his promises. He did mean what he said, and he felt something almost like pride at this boy, that everything said he shouldn't care about but he did, telling him in the middle of woods that he believed in him at least in some way. But it didn't matter right now, so he pushed the pride aside.

Merlin wasn't speaking again so Arthur prompted him, "What do you mean?"

The boy took a deep breath. "My magic's different. I didn't want to say, I've been trying to ignore it, to not even think of it. That's why I couldn't tell you. But you kept asking, and I was scared and confused and so I took it out on you and I'm sorry.

"But my magic isn't the same anymore. It's always been there, and I've always been aware of it. When I actually realised what it was I could... call on it. I could always use it even sometimes without really thinking about it or noticing. But I knew how to control it, mostly. I could use it when I wanted to and it didn't just explode out of me at random times. It just sat there most of the time. Except recently, it's not just happy to sit still anymore. It's like its always eager for attention, always wanting something and its even more readily present than before and I can't ignore it.

"It's dangerous. The bandits when we first escaped, I didn't even mean to... I wanted my magic to do something but not necessarily... that. My magic's bigger and less controlled and it comes too readily now, even stronger than I want it to. I didn't realised with the bandits, I just meant for them to get away from us and I thought maybe my fear had made it more potent or something but now... all the storms, that first one in the city. The lightning lit fires in the town and this man was carried injured back to castle later on, right past me, and calling for people to help his son and I overheard... the boy had died in the fire and no one had wanted to tell him. I killed that boy, and those bandits... or at least some of them, and I hadn't even meant to. It just happened, and my magic was stronger than I expected and... I can't make it go away or calm down.

"But I killed that boy, they said he was just 3... I know you said, you promised that I wouldn't be a monster, that you wouldn't let me become one, but what if... what if I already am one, or if you can't stop it?"

"I promised Merlin. I always keep my promises." Arthur thought he might not have ever meant anything so sincerely in his life. The look of hope on Merlin's face in that moment, made it worth it.

But there was still fear on it too. "I'm just scared. My magic's too powerful, too much and I don't want this much. I liked it better before when there was less. I never wanted to be like this. I just... I can't trust my magic or myself. Because if I can kill people without even meaning to, then I'm dangerous. Everything that I knew, I don't know anymore.

"I always knew where home was, and who I was, and what my magic was like and how it made me feel and that I had to keep it a secret. But it's not a secret anymore; Everyone I've met this past month knows, knows even more about my magic than I do and I no longer know what my magic is or wants, I hadn't even known that it could want anything! But I don't know... you promised to take me home, and home has always meant Ealdor but what if it doesn't anymore? I don't belong there, I never did before and I certainly don't now. I don't know how my mother or Will are, or what they did when I went missing. What if they aren't there anymore? What if by the time I come back something's happened to them?" The tears that Merlin had been holding back began to fall.

"I don't know where I belong, I don't even know who I am." The boy's breathing harshened.

"I do know, the only thing I do know, is that you won't break your promise. If you can, you will protect me and take me home. I just don't where that is, or who you're protecting me from; Everyone else or myself?"

Arthur shook his head as Merlin dissolved into uncontrollable sobs. Ignoring the pain, Arthur leapt up and hugged the boy.

He didn't know what to think, except that the world or the gods or fate or whoever had decided that this innocent boy was to be given a dangerous power that scared him was cruel. The bandits... a 3 year old boy... Merlin didn't even want to kill a squirrel! Things had never seemed more unfair than when he stood there holding Merlin's shaking form.

At least, he thought, at least, Merlin was letting him comfort him again.

XxX

**A/N: Thank you StormCrownSr for pointing out there were missing words, I think I've fixed all of them. I'm actually going to be looking into getting a beta reader for this fic if I can figure out how, so it might be getting better soon. If anyone's interested feel free to message me :)**


	19. In The Hands Of A Frightened Child

"Why can't you kill rabbits?" Arthur asked after the second squirrel Merlin killed.

Merlin looked back around at Arthur from where he was crouched over the squirrel. "The tails are too fluffy and their ears are too floppy. I just can't."

"Squirrels have fluffy tails too." He looked at where Merlin was holding the squirrel by said fluffy tail.

"No, they have bushy tails. And their ears aren't floppy." Merlin looked at Arthur as if _he _was the clueless idiot.

"Right, because there's an important distinction between fluffiness and bushiness."

"It's a very clear line." Merlin nodded.

In truth, there were more important things to talk about than tails. Once silence reigned again, however, Arthur had even less courage to broach the topic.

The whole reason the two were out here hunting their own food for the third day in a row was not lost on Arthur. Merlin wanted as little to do with the druids as possible, he'd made that clear. But the boy was scared, and Arthur was the last person able to help someone with matters of magic.

So he had swallowed his pride just that morning, and talked to the druids.

"I need your help." He'd asked.

"Our help?" One of the druids had asked.

Arthur had been raised in court, however, and knew how not to show uncertainty or hesitation in front of those who are suspicious -- not because they had been fully-robed and hidden (it was nearly Winter after all) but because these three druids in particular had stared at Arthur, blank of expression and hadn't even seemed to blink. "Do any of you know magic?"

Another one had answered, "Not all druids can use magic, and yet, magic is part of our way of life."

"Right..." That hadn't sounded like an answer to him. "Well there must be someone who teaches magic, to those who can use it, isn't there?"

"And why would you need someone to teach magic, surely not for yourself?" The first one had questioned much more hostilely although his face had still not changed, which had only made Arthur more discomfited.

"No, my friend..." He had hoped that was the right way to refer to Merlin, now that they were talking civilly again. "He has magic."

Which he had thought would have been stating the obvious as Merlin said the druids knew and were interested in his magic, but these druids had not been content to be so straightforward. "He does not have it. He is magic, it flows through his body just as blood runs through his veins." The second druid insisted forcefully.

"It is hardly news to us." The third and much calmer druid had added in, Arthur had decided to call him Druid no. 3.

"But he can't control it." Arthur had focused on, not having had followed the rest of what the druids had said.

"He is extraordinarily powerful." Druid no. 3 said. "I would be surprised if one so young could control that much power."

That was the problem. "But he needs to learn. Surely someone here can teach him." Arthur had insisted.

After a pause, druid no. 3 answered with a mere downturn of his head, "I can teach him that." Arthur had appreciated his straightforwardness.

"You don't mean him any ill will?" Arthur had had to check.

"Ha." The hostile druid laughed. "The Pendragon Prince asking us if _w__e _bear ill will toward a sorceror? How precious."

Arthur hadn't known what to say to that. There was no real defense, he had borne ill will towards Merlin originally. But still... "You seem familiar with his magic." Arthur had to be sure.

"His magic is strong, there are many who would seek to use it to their advantage, even against his will. You have come across such people already, have you not?" The eerie observation didn't make any of them less discomfiting.

"Fear not, little King, I do not covet Emrys' magic." Druid no. 3 had reassured.

But now, how to tell Merlin that Arthur had arranged a magic lesson for him without his consent?

"I mean, honestly, who could look at that and want to kill it?" Merlin turned to Arthur and gestured towards the fluffy-tailed and floppy-eared rabbit they'd come across.

"Someone who's hungry." By the timing of his growling stomach that may have been projecting.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "That's what the squirrels are for."

And they were finally getting along too, Arthur groused.

XxX

Usually Arthur complained to Merlin nonstop while they traipsed the woods. Since he was in pain and Merlin was the one dragging him out here everyday, he was magnanimously able to forgive the irritating Prince for that. However Arthur had barely spoken to him all day, and the sun was now setting. Merlin wondered if he'd done something to upset him.

They were just about to break the tree line of the small clearing the druids were camped in when Arthur, who had to lean on him to walk by this point in the day, said to him, "Wait." Merlin stopped and looked at Arthur strangely. "I have something I have to tell you." Arthur was breathing heavily between his words.

"Alright. At least sit down, you sound like a panting dog."

Arthur acquiesced, not that he had much choice, as Merlin lowered him to lean against a tree.

Merlin sat next to the other boy and asked, "What is it?"

Arthur didn't say anything for a moment, long enough that Merlin was about to ask him again.

"Just don't get angry." Arthur looked at him and his eyes seemed to plead with him to understand.

"That's not a reassuring start." Merlin leaned away.

"I just meant to help, and you do need it."

"Help with what?"

Arthur took a steadying breath. "Your magic."

Merlin own breath seemed to stutter in his chest. Alongside it, said magic burned within him. "How can you help with that?"

"That's just it, I can't." Arthur's eyes continued to plead with him until the other boy gathered the courage to say, "That's why I asked the druids for help."

"You asked the druids?" Merlin yelled, darting to his feet.

"They know about magic." Arthur tried to reason.

"Yeah, about mine! Do want me to end up with people like Lord Banbury?" He accused.

"Of course not!" Arthur tried to get to his own feet, but slumped back down. Merlin didn't help him up, taking a further step away.

"Merlin, I don't want to fight with you, I'm tired of fighting with you." And Arthur really did sound tired, the day in the woods had exhausted him. He looked pitiful unable to even get up from the grass.

"Then why would you go to the druids?" Merlin felt like he was the one pleading now.

"Because you're scared Merlin. And I don't want to see you that way, and I can't help you with that."

"Yes, you can!" Merlin insisted. "I'm not scared with you, why can't that be enough?"

"You may not be scared _of_ me, but you are still scared of your magic _around_ me."

Merlin's heart thumped harder in his chest. "I don't trust them."

"You don't have to." Arthur rushed to say. "Trust me?"

Merlin stared at Arthur for a moment, sighed and then nodded.

Arthur looked at him solemnly. "I'll stay with you. But, please understand, I had to do this. You being scared of your magic is making you scared of yourself. And there's nothing about you that's scary, Merlin."

Merlin couldn't help smiling at that. At least a little.

XxX

Merlin really wished they were hunting today. Or anywhere else, really, anywhere that wasn't in the middle of this circle of druids that were staring at him. He hated being the centre of attention.

Arthur stood by his side, staying with him as he'd promised. The Prince had a look of sympathy on his face, but Merlin would have preferred it if he'd just never set this lesson up.

The circle was broken briefly, as a druid stepped forward to meet them in the middle, before they closed the gap behind him.

"Merlin." The druid bowed his head towards him.

Merlin nodded his head in turn.

The druid turned towards Arthur. "If you could step aside?"

Merlin looked towards him frantically. "It's okay, Merlin, I'm right here." He stepped away towards the edge of the circle, but did not leave.

For a long and unsettling moment the druid observed Merlin, tilting his head sideways.

"What do you know of magic?"

Merlin blinked at the sudden interruption of silence, that had held like a steady blanket despite the crowd of at least 20 druids watching the scene.

"Uh... I can do things that other's can't... and that makes people afraid." Merlin spoke lowly in a hesitant voice.

"And it makes you afraid." Merlin inhaled sharply. He nodded jerkily. "That fear is unnecessary."

Merlin furrowed his brow. "It's killed people."

"Were either of you two in danger at the time?"

"...yes."

"Surely you cannot hold it against your own magic to protect you." Ogden stated as the reasonable and obvious conclusion.

"It wasn't always against people after me. Sometimes they were just... nearby." He whispered the last word.

The look in the druid's eyes was gentle, the first hint of emotion Arthur had seen. "That is no reason to fear your magic, only to control it."

Merlin looked around as if wanting to escape before turning his gaze to his own feet. "But I can't control it anymore."

"As you grow, so too will your magic grow with you. It's presence is constant, it's power is not."

Merlin looked back up at Ogden, something sparking in his eyes. "So it's natural, what's happening to me? You've seen this before?"

"Natural? Most certainly. Common? Absolutely not." Merlin scrunched up his face in confusion. "You are unique, Merlin." His lips tilted upwards as if wanting to smile but not quite daring to when he said Merlin's name. "What is happening to you is unique."

"What is happening to me?" Merlin demanded.

"Before that, your answer about magic. Magic is more than something that sets you apart from others."

"I don't understand."

"Magic is the energy of the world. That which breathes, life and movement. It is the way of the Goddess, thunderstorms and droughts. Balance in all of nature. It is impartial and exigent." The druid's tone was one of deep respect that shifted to awe. "Magic always has been and always will be. Sometimes, people can tap into it, use it to alter natural law for a time, but there is no defying the Balance. But you... You are altogether different." If Merlin could hide away and never again have anyone look at him like they'd stumbled across the most magnificent yet unexpected treasure, he would. "Magic is larger than us... but not you. For you, magic is partial. It is not beyond you, it is of you and you are of it."

"What are you saying? I don't-" The words came out short-of-breath as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

He looked over at Arthur, who was watching everything attentively. It was clear that he was as uncomfortable as Merlin listening to this talk of incomprehensible magic, but nevertheless he gave Merlin a reassuring look and smiled at him. Merlin took a deep breath and turned back to the druid.

"Perhaps you would better understand without words." The druid said once Merlin's attention was fixed once more on him. "Close your eyes."

Merlin looked towards Arthur, who nodded, and closed his eyes knowing that at least Arthur could still watch what was happening.

"Seek out your magic within you, take a hold of it." The druid instructed.

It didn't exactly take much seeking. It was unbearably present and pulsating under his skin. He wasn't sure what take hold of it was supposed to mean. Did druids 'grab' their magic? With what hands? And how? There was too much of it, it flowed all around him in constant motion, he could 'grab' it.

"Send the magic outside of your body. Let it flow into the world around you."

Well, that was easy enough, and didn't requiring any 'grabbing'. It was all too easy actually. His magic had been eager to get out of him for weeks, it was gladly willing to flow everywhere and anywhere. But there was too much of it, he wasn't about to just let it explode out of him like all the times before. He shuffled a bit and then lifted his hand palm upward. He let a little bit of magic flow outwards. Pressure built up as the magic surged while he only inched it out.

A steady stream of magic left and then ran rampant. Leaping among druids and trees and critters and tents with exorbitant joy. He could hear more, the twitter of birds and flutter of their wings yet he knew they were far away. The magic pulsated around the 23 heartbeats in the circle, and then outwards, beating to the rhythm of druids' heartbeats on the other side of camp.

Then a tent caught a fire. A tree snapped right at the trunk and toppled. And several druids to his left went flying.

Merlin snapped open his eyes to see the tree falling towards Arthur's head. "No!" He yelled out, and the tree went soaring over ducking druids' heads and barrelled into three other trees which promptly snapped and fell in a pile.

A druid put out the fire with a glow of golden eyes and Merlin looked towards the druids to his left which were climbing back to their feet.

He looked at Arthur in horror and recieved a stare of utter shock in return.

"Ah..." He muttered turning back to the druid in the centre of the, now disoriented, circle with him who hadn't so much as twitched.

"What are you frightened of?"

"Uh..."

"The magic of the world is impartial, as I've said. Your's is intrinsic, it will respond to your emotions. Something frightened your magic. What?" The druid explained.

"It was going everywhere... and there were so many people..." He stumbled over his words, having no idea how to describe what had just occurred.

"You fear that it will simply do things unexpectedly and without cause." The druid nodded his head as if in understanding.

"Yes." He breathed out.

"Your magic will indeed do such things." Merlin felt a prickling behind his eyes and a lump in his throat. "For as long as you fear that it will." He enunciated slowly. "You must trust your magic. It is too deepely ingrained within you to be treated as a separate entity. Your power coexists with you on a fundamental level." The druid stepped towards him and Merlin took two steps back.

"You must learn to trust your magic. Or the consequences will be unspeakable." He warned.


	20. Future On The Way

Arthur hadn't known what to think after witnessing Merlin's lesson. The boy had no sooner released his magic than chaos erupted. And again he hadn't even meant it. What was he even trying to do here? To help a boy contend with a magic that seemed bent on continued destruction? Merlin was innocent, but this magic was not. Whatever was going on, Arthur wanted no part of it and he didn't want Merlin to have any part in it either. And yet as everyone kept saying, there was no getting rid of this magic within him, '_fundamental' _and _'ingrained'_.

He'd grabbed Merlin after the druid's warning to trust this magic, and dragged Merlin out of the circle and away from the druids.

Once they were safely ensconced back in their tent he apologised. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you, I don't know what I was thinking! I just wasn't expecting..." He trailed off.

"That." Merlin mumbled the answer, staring at the furs at their feet.

He stared at this boy, slightly shorter than him and skinny as a twig. Hair an unkempt mess and dirt everywhere, it was clear that they'd been wandering the woods regularly. They hadn't dared risk the river in the cold. He just looked boyish, and in need of his mother's attention but then Arthur knew he himself could use a servant or two at the moment if he were to be presentable.

"This is so bloody unfair." He spat, curling his hands into fists.

Merlin looked up at him. "What?"

"You. And magic. It's so... ugh, it's not you! You can only barely bring yourself to kill a squirrel but never a rabbit, instead you give opinions on their tails like its an established fact in some old tome! Druids and trees flying through the air... it's- incompatible!"

"Well it's not like I can get rid of it." And damn it all if the boy didn't look like he was pouting, Arthur had to grit his teeth at how innocent he looked. "You told me I'd never be a monster.

"You are as unmonstrous as they come. The complete opposite in fact. The magic... well I don't even know what it is."

"Weren't you listening. You can't treat me and magic as two separate entities, we're too _fundamentally_ _the same_." That was bitterness; it was Merlin he wasn't allowed to be bitter it just sounded wrong.

"That druid's an idiot."

"Because we'd know more about magic than he would." Merlin stated with a sarcastic little smile.

"More about yours anyway." Yes, that had to be it. Just saying it made him more determined.

"I don't know half of what they speak of-"

Arthur cut him off, "That's because it's nonsensical rubbish. You're of it, it's of you, what is that even supposed to mean?"

Merlin got a faraway look on his face as he said, "For a moment, just before, it was like I could sense more than myself. I was... attuned to the world."

"Is that what it was like before? When your magic was still... whatever it was." Merlin smiled at his attempt to formulate the idea.

"I don't think so."

"That's neither a yes nor a no Merlin." Arthur rolled his eyes. He definitely was never going to understand this if his questions weren't even answered properly.

"I think sometimes I could be aware of things outside of myself. But it wasn't, the magic feels different, more potent and... demanding."

"Like it's partial?" Arthur questioned.

"I thought that druid was an idiot?" Merlin grinned at him, and Arthur had to smile back.

"What is it demanding, then?"

"What?" Merlin furrowed his brows at him.

"If it's demanding, then what is it asking for?" Arthur repeated. He still didn't understand how magic asked for anything, but if that was how the boy described it then that was the terminology he'd use.

"I don't know."

Arthur took a deep breath, hesitant. "Why don't you let it out again, see what it wants?"

Merlin's eyes widened in fear. "What are you- Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No. Do you have another way to find out what it wants."

Merlin bit his lip. "No. What if I drop another tree on you?"

Arthur looked around him. "What tree? We're in the middle of the camp."

Merlin looked at him unimpressed. "I could still set the tent on fire."

"Then I'll drag us both out." Arthur answered drily. "I won't let anything happen."

Merlin looked at him uncertainly. "What if it snaps again? How can you stop it?"

"It's just us. No druids watching, no spectacle. Just focus on the tent and what's inside it. I'm the only one here."

Merlin's shoulders fell and he closed his eyes as let go of his breath.

Nothing happened at first, Arthur just stood there in silence, watching Merlin stand there with his eyes closed. Then Merlin's brow furrowed and when he blinked his eyes open they were shining gold.

Merlin gasped and stepped back in shock.

"What?" Arthur asked, looking around to see if anything had happened, but everything was still. Merlin was just staring at him with glowing golden eyes; this went on for an uncomfortable length of time.

Arthur stood up taller and straightened at the strange and unwavering gaze the boy fixed him with and hoped that the tent wasn't about to catch fire.

Finally, Merlin's eyes shifted back to blue, but he didn't stop staring. "What happened?" He asked as the boy seemed to come back to himself.

"I think... I think it wants _you_." He spoke into the silence with confusion.

"Excuse me?" Arthur took a step back.

"Sorry." Merlin said immediately. "The magic it, uh... _likes _you?"

"Likes me?"

"Yes?"

"Is that a question?"

"Maybe?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Totally reassuring, not unnerving at all."

"It's not- it- well-" Merlin sighed. "I don't know. It didn't start any fires this time." Merlin gave him a hopeful little lopsided grin.

"Because it likes me?"

"Yes, well it was rather too focused on you to be starting any fires. But the good thing is, that means no fires." Merlin's grin grew wider. As Arthur stared at him in incomprehension, the grin slipped and he continued defensively, "You wanted me to be more reassuring, I was trying to think positive."

"To reassure me about your magic liking me?"

"Would you prefer it hate you?"

"No." He responded instantly. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"So... your magic wants _me_?"

Merlin quickly shook his head. "It's nothing weird or, it doesn't want you dead or anything. It was like it was comforting you. Like it wanted to look after you."

"Magic was comforting me." That sentence was irrational to his ears.

"I mean, I think that's what it was doing."

"Merlin!" He yelled. The boy just grinned. He had never been more confused or out of his depth in his life.

XxX

Merlin couldn't get it out of his head. The magic hadn't run rampant when he let it flow out of him this time, it had headed straight for Arthur. At first, Merlin had panicked, thinking it was about to hurt him but then... it had stopped. The magic never touched him, but it floated around the Prince like a blanket or a shield. It seemed... happy and content for the first time in ages. Merlin couldn't look away, and now he couldn't forget it.

He had no idea what the magic wanted, or why it had changed. He still definitely didn't like the druids staring at him and sharing glances around him as if whispering secrets right over his head.

He just wanted to be at home. He wished that his mother could be with him, stroking his hair and whispering assurances.

But for now, Arthur was with him, and he trusted Arthur. And for once his magic hadn't been destructive. At least this once his stomach could untie its knots.

XxX

While Merlin fell asleep that night, Arthur was unable to.

His tossing and turning was interrupted by a druid opening the tent flap. Arthur sat up as his heart beat faster. The druid merely gestured for him to follow and then left, the tent flap swinging closed behind her.

Arthur gaped. He wasn't sleeping anyway so he got up, quietly struggled with his cloak that it was much too cold at this point to do without, and followed after the druid.

She was waiting for him outside and when he came out she walked off to another tent, Arthur in step behind her.

Upon entering, Arthur found two more druids sitting on the ground, one of them the one which had taught Merlin that day. The other gestured for Arthur to sit with them, so he lowered himself gently onto the furs. The druid woman joined them, so that they sat with Arthur across from them.

"My name is Ogden." The man who'd invited him to sit said. "We need to talk to you about your friend."

Arthur sat up straighter and ignored the ache in his chest. "What of him?"

"You know him as Merlin. My people know of him as Emrys. I say this to explain why we are concerned about him."

"Concerned?"

Ogden smiled. "You are a good friend to be so protective of him. It is heartening to see, but you need not worry that we bear ill will towards him."

"He certainly wasn't being kind today." Arthur gestured towards the other druid.

"Alan? He was merely warning Emrys of the direness of his situation."

"His name's Merlin." Arthur insisted.

Ogden's gaze turned serious. "Prophecies have spoken of Emrys for over a thousand years. We call him by that name because it is his name. He, and his magic, have been foretold. So have you."

Arthur's eyebrows shot up. _Over a thousand years. Foretold__?_ "He's a boy. I happened to meet him on accident. There's nothing prophetic about it."

"Accident, destiny, these are just words. When he called out for our help to save you after that beast attacked, his magic had soaked into the clearing. It screamed out in desperation. We recognised him as Emrys, who else could he have been?"

"But he-"

"Doesn't even want magic?" Ogden finished. "Yes, so he said."

"I did not mean any ill by my warning." Alan interjected. "But his magic is powerful. Once he has fully come into his magic, there will never again be power to equal it. That power, in the hands of a frightened child, could bring catastrophe."

Arthur thought of a storm, deafening cracks of thunder, lightning striking outside his cell window and pouring rain. He thought of flying druids and trees and tents on fire.

"What has that got to do with me?" He didn't know why they'd asked him here.

"Because you are the only one able to help him. We cannot make him trust his magic, nor even see it clearly if he does not wish to. He trusts you. You must help him conquer his fear." Ogden said.

Arthur didn't know what to say. He wanted to help Merlin, but he knew nothing of magic. "I only met him a month ago."

Ogden and the woman both smiled at him indulgently. "You have been tied together since before you born. You can help him where no else can, just as he can help you."

"How? What do these prophecies say?"

Ogden's smile grew wider, but his eyes remained serious, and his tone became solemn. "They speak of you as King, Arthur Pendragon. They speak of Emrys, of his magic, as your guardian and aid." He paused. "That is all I shall tell today, you are still young, destiny still far away. It is imperative in this time to help your friend be unafraid of himself. To trust in his magic. The rest can wait."

"I don't even trust his magic."

The woman spoke up for the first time. "You would be wise to do so, young King. His magic will be your greatest ally."

With that Ogden gestured to the door and it was clear the conversation was over.

XxX

Arthur knew he had even less chance of sleeping now.

He knew he was to be King one day, but it always seemed so distant. He was only a Prince and he hoped to stay that way for a long time yet. To be called _young King_, told that a whole society of people have been telling prophecies of his Kingship for a millenium, it was just a bit too much.

He rolled over and saw Merlin on the furs next to his. His mouth was parted and his hair stuck up behind his big ears, he had the blanket pulled right up to his chin.

Emrys. Merlin. A young boy. A sorceror.

Arthur groaned and rolled over again. Prophecy was just beyond him. Magic, all of this, was beyond him damn it! He wanted his castle, and Sirs Leon and Galahad lecturing him, and his father watching over him with disapproval or pride. It was like another life now, but at least he had understood it.

Not like this talk of magic and unequaled power. He rolled over again. Power, at least, he did somewhat understand. And he had understood that they were inferring this boy, Merlin, was going to be the most powerful sorceror ever to exist. Watching him drool that was hard to fathom.

Emrys sounded so obscure and separate from reality. Merlin, right here in front of him, was weird and annoying. He was a child, a very real child.

For that, Arthur would listen to Alan and Ogden. He understood that Merlin's magic, however inexplicable, was dangerous in the hands of a frightened child and Merlin was frightened. If there was anything Arthur did understand, it was fear and how to get past it. He was a knight and an heir, he had to know how to conquer his own fear. In this, at least, he wasn't completely outside his realm of expertise, this he understood.

But Merlin also wasn't the mystical figure that these druids saw him as. He wanted his mother and his home and Arthur had promised to take him there. He hadn't cared or known about destiny or prophecy when he did.

Merlin shivered in his sleep. Arthur grabbed his own furs and blankets and shuffled himself over so they were lying next to each other. Merlin didn't wake up, instead relaxing into their combined warmth.

He would protect Merlin because he was Merlin, and otherwise alone and vulnerable. And he would help him with his fear because it was necessary and he knew how to do what needed to be done. Beyond that, Kingship and great allies... they even didn't live in the same Kingdom. Arthur would get Merlin home and then have to go back to Camelot himself and Merlin definitely wasn't following him.

Destiny be damned, but Arthur would help his friend while he was needed to do so. And that included from druids and prophecies.

XxX

"We're leaving today." Merlin gave him an odd look. "Right now actually, we need to get going." Arthur concluded.

"I don't understand."

"We're leaving isn't a difficult concept."

"But you're injured." Merlin argued.

"I'm mostly healed, I'll be fine."

Merlin looked around as if looking for more reasons. "First snow is coming soon."

"All the more reason to get going as soon as we can. Is there some reason you want to stay?" Merlin shrugged. "I promised I'd take you home, and I will. But to do that we can't stay with the druids all Winter."

Merlin acquiesced with a nod and stood up, putting his jacket on.

It wasn't like they had much to take with them. He made sure he had his cloak and slingshot but apart from that there wasn't anything to pack.

"Guess that's it then." Merlin muttered looking towards the tent flap.

Arthur took the first step and lead the other boy outside. They hadn't gone far before they came across Ogden who rose from his seat around a firepit.

"This is no mere hunting trip." The druid said. Arthur wondered how he could tell.

He made sure to stand up tall and straight and was slightly in front of Merlin. "No. We thank for you for your hospitality and for healing my wounds but we will making our own way now."

"We would never keep either of you here against your will. However you cannot simply depart with the clothes on your back. We have packed some supplies for you." He gestured towards another druid who came over and held out a worn leather pack to Arthur.

"Thank you." He said as he took it. Looking inside he saw a couple daggers and blankets as well as a skin of water and dried food. There was even flint.

He nodded at them once more and then they made their way out of the camp. Arthur tried to ignore all the knowing eyes on him. They were all the more unsettling now that he knew what they thought of him and Merlin.

XxX

It was after noon when Arthur made them stop walking. He ignored Merlin's confused looks as he scanned the ground. Picking up two large enough sticks he tossed one of them to the boy.

"Um, Arthur?"

"They only packed daggers, so sticks will have to suffice. I'm taking it you never learned swordfighting."

Merlin's eyes were widening. "Uh, what?"

Arthur had been thinking about it all day. Everything that had rolling around his head all night hadn't stopped. He had a responsibility towards Merlin and somehow he had to get the boy to get over his fear. He may know nothing of magic, but he did understand fighting.

"I'm going to teach you how to fight with a sword." Arthur explained.

"Why?"

"Fear gives something power over you. Strength strips it of that power." Arthur repeated the lesson he'd been taught by Sir Galahad. "I don't understand magic and I can't get rid of yours. But I've realised that I can help you overcome it. You just have to become stronger than it."

Merlin looked at him incredulously. "You think fighting me with a stick is going to help me control my magic?"

"It's not the stick or even the fighting itself. The idea is to make you stronger. More resilient. More confident in yourself." Arthur replied. "I'm going to help you, just trust me?"

Merlin looked from him to the stick in his hand and back. He raised his arm up, bearing the stick aloft. "Alright, what do I do?"

Arthur grinned. "You block me." At that he ran at Merlin and swung his stick, Merlin bringing up his own just in time.

XxX

**A/N: Goodbye druids, something about the time in the druid camp was just super hard to write, glad to be moving past it. But... Had to bring up their destiny somehow.**

**Hope you enjoyed, please review it makes me smile :)**

**And if you want to know,**

**Coming next: Nimeuh**


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